


Closer to the Truth

by Si_obi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy to the rescue, F/M, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Odin is an arsehole, Prison Loki, References to Norse Religion & Lore, loki can't seem to get along with anyone, sort of, tasertricks - Freeform, wedding time!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Si_obi/pseuds/Si_obi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since Loki left New York in tatters. Now Jane and Thor are getting married, Darcy takes an unexpected trip into Asgard to celebrate, and finds herself drawn to the green eyed man in the cell of an Asgardian prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

_A/N- This was originally posted on FF.net in Sept 2013. I moved over here because I know some people prefer AO3 over FF.net, so here's to pleasing the masses! Plus, this is the tweaked version... I'm just super happy I can iron out the awkward phrasing and dodgy storytelling. Also a huge thank you to everyone on ff.net that encouraged me to continue writing this- you're all fucking troopers (you know who you are :) )_

_Set 2 years after the events of the Avengers, and written before Thor 2 was released!_

* * *

 

 

“Jane?” Darcy’s hesitant voice echoed around the empty lab. “Anyone home?”

Silence greeted her and, with a sigh, she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where Jane was.

Since they’d gotten the Tesseract back from Thor’s brother, Asgard had formed themselves a new Bifrost, meaning Jane had gone to visit Thor. Again. She’d been off and on Earth now for over 2 years, leaving Erik and Darcy to sort out SHIELD’s less important work. Darcy spent her time printing out data and going over numbers on the SHIELD database after she’d graduated. Those last few credits had been hell to get, but she’d gotten them eventually, through ‘extenuating circumstances’ (aka, SHIELD writing to her university).

“I am _not_ accountable for any accidental tasing if someone jumps out at me.” She called out to the lab before flicking the lights on and heading toward the kitchen. She figured that liberating a few bags of Jane’s snacks in the lab kitchen would mean her visit wasn’t for naught. She wouldn’t notice anyway – she was probably used to living off the royal budget, eating pheasant or whatever they had there.

She was busy filling her overnight bag with snacks when a loud clang echoed around the lab.

“Shit!” She jumped and promptly zipped her bag up, turning around with a huge smile on her face, to see Erik Selvig throwing himself at the lab door. Clearing her throat guiltily and maintaining her smile, she opened the door and leaned on the handle.

“Forgot your keys again, Selvig?” She passed him the keys she’d found on the counter earlier. “Breaking and entering is a crime, you know.”

“I’d forget my head if it weren’t screwed on, Darce.” He shuddered and smiled weakly. “Besides, I doubt I could be punished for trying to enter my own lab.”

Darcy grinned and watched as Erik flipped on the coffee machine.

“Bit late for coffee?”

“Well, I thought I’d do a bit of overtime.” He leant on the counter and fiddled with the zip on his coat. He used to be such a confident man, but after New York, he’d shrunk a little. Tiny habits kept appearing, little fidgets and movements. Darcy knew he was still seeing his shrink, three years on.

“Dedication.” She nodded her head. “I thought I’d pop in and see Jane but-“

“-She’s not here.”

“Huh?” Darcy heard the flatness in Erik’s voice and frowned. “I figured she’d be with Thor.”

“She’s abandoning her work, Darcy. I told her not to, but she just seems-“

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Darcy scowled. Jane abandoning her science was akin to announcing some sort of apocalypse in Darcy’s eyes. “What happened? Is it SHIELD again?”

“No. She’s-“

“Pregnant?” Darcy offered.

“-Getting married.” The voice that finished the sentence was definitely more feminine than Erik’s, and Darcy turned to Jane Foster stood in the entrance to the lab. “Sorry. Heimdall told me you were back from New York.”

Darcy was lost for words, a surprising concept given her love for talking absolute shit in the worst situations. “What?! Congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me before… This is great news!”

“I meant to tell you Darce, I really did. It’s just I’ve been so busy with my plans, and moving my lab to Asgard and-“

“-I thought Thor’s parents hated you?”

“They came around to the idea.” Jane shrugged.

“So you’re breaking up with science for Thor?” She said angrily.

“No, no, no.” She said hurriedly. “I’m just moving it to Asgard. But Erik won’t come with me, because-“

“-Of the villainous scum you’ll call your brother-in-law.” Erik spits with more furiousness than Darcy can ever recall him having.

“He’s in a dark cell in an Asgardian prison. He’s harmless now.” Jane looked timid and unconvinced by her own words.

“And what about me?” Darcy asks quietly, feeling as though Jane had set this plan in motion without consulting her at all. Darcy was her assistant all throughout those years after her degree, and she’d only just recently come back from a short office contract with Stark Industries. “You referred me to Stark because you wanted me gone, right?”

“No! Darcy. I…”

“Just tell me straight, Jane.”

Jane looked at her, infuriated with her confusion. “Darce. I came here to invite you to my wedding. You were so busy with your work that I didn’t want to come to New York and tell you. I know you. You’d want to be part of the planning, and you’d come to Asgard to make everything perfect, I know you would. But I didn’t want you to screw up and leave a good chance on Earth for a chance to follow me to Asgard! I’m leaving. Not you. Plus you know Stark would have denied your request for a holiday.”

Darcy deflated. “I… guess you’re right.” Sound reasoning had always been Jane’s forte.

“When am I not?” Jane joked, a smile playing on her lips.

Darcy gave in and returned the smile. “When’s the big day, then?”

“Don’t freak out, but I’m picking my mom up tomorrow. I’ll come wake you guys in the morning. I’m getting married the day after we arrive.” She grinned, her tiny body buzzing with excitement. It was like she’d discovered the Bifrost again.

“That soon?!”

“I told you I wanted to keep it a secret.” Jane laughed. “You can stay all week if you behave yourself.”

“I… can’t promise anything.” She winked, and turned to the quiet man behind her. “Erik… are you _really_ not going to Jane’s wedding because of Loki?” Darcy looked at Erik still playing with the zip on his coat, this time with more forcefulness.

“I can’t. Jane I want to, you know I do. But I can’t step foot in that place without thinking about… all the bad memories he’s left in my head.”

Jane and Darcy looked at him sadly. “It’s still that bad?” Darcy said gently.

“After all this time, it’s not faded. I still feel like he’s in my head… I still feel like a murderer.”

“You’re not.” She said quickly. “That’s Thor’s brother.”

Erik smiled weakly at her. “I know.”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

She was having the weirdest dream. Jane and Thor were at the altar of this space-church, ready to get hitched when she ran in, and saw that behind the veil of the wedding dress was Thor, and Jane stood beside him in a red cape. Instead of being amused (as she definitely would’ve been) Darcy was outraged.

“I object!” She yelled, sitting up and nearly head-butting Jane, who was poking at her. She fell straight back into the warmth of her mattress and groaned loudly.

“Darce, what the…?”  

“You didn’t have to poke me so hard.” She emerged from the covers, hair everywhere and pyjama top hanging off her shoulders. She thought she felt like crap until looked into the fully make upped face of Jane Foster, and then she felt like utter shit.

“We have an hour until the Bifrost opens. I thought you’d be ready! Get up, no time to shower.” She pulled Darcy out of bed and flung some clothes at her. Darcy, still half asleep, threw them on and felt a harsh pain as Jane brushed through her hair.

“Janeeee.” She mumbled, her voice gravelly from sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I thought being 26 years old meant you could get up on your own, but obviously not.”

She pushed Darcy into the bathroom, where she put on some make up. After all, she betted all the women in Asgard were stunning. Jane popped her head around the door and smiled as she watched Darcy almost put lip gloss on her eyelashes.

“I’m packing your bags. Is the purple top okay to pack?”

“Yeah, the one with the buttons. Pack my jeans!”

“No jeans. Haven’t you got any formal dresses to pack?”

“There’s the slutty one I wore for your birthday?”

“Nooo.” Darcy could hear her cringing for the bathroom. “Haven’t you got anything… Asgardian?”

“How the hell do I know what’s Asgardian? You haven’t given me time to buy new clothes! Plus this trailer isn’t exactly walk-in-wardrobe friendly-”

“Ooooh, what’s this?”

Darcy stuck her head out of the bathroom door, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. “Really? That was my prom dress.” It was a green silky ball dress, with a sweeping hem and a neckline that plunged down modestly into a v. It had a small corset back that hugged her curves and made Darcy rather uncomfortable- she preferred her shapeless sweaters and jeans for comfort, but for formal events, she guessed it passed Jane’s test with flying colours.

“Eugh, fine.” She groaned. “Oh. And my contacts.”

She threw her contacts box at Jane and packed her toothbrush and cosmetics into a bag, then threw that too. Jane zipped her bag up and Darcy fell down onto the bed with a contented sigh. “Wow, I’m so glad people gave other people notice around here,” she said sarcastically. “I need coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jane threw her bag at Darcy. “C’mon. Breakfast’s ready, then Heimdallr is opening the Bifrost site at 12.”

“Breakfast? Does that include coffee?” Darcy asked, sitting up and putting socks on. She looked down at the clothes Jane had picked out for her.  She’d chucked her a patterned slim fitting blouse and cardigan, with a cute (non-Darcy) black skirt and tights. “Oh. Did you pack my sexy underwear?” She winked. “You’ll be getting some, but me? I’ll definitely be on the prowl if everyone there looks as good as Thor.” She put her glasses on with a grin.

She raised her eyebrows. “You’ll be glad to hear they do. Not that I’ve been looking.”

“Hmm.” As she pulled on her favourite leather ankle boots, a thought came to her.

“Jane. Are you moving to Asgard for good after you marry then? There’s absolutely no chance of you moving back here?”

Jane froze, Darcy’s black heels in her hand. She sat down on the bed “I… I was going to talk about this when we got there.”

Darcy sunk down beside her and put her hand over Jane’s.

“You’re staying, aren’t you?”

 Jane sighed. “I am.”

Darcy forced herself to laugh, but inside she wanted to cry. Jane had stuck with her through everything, despite Darcy insisting that she just needed college credits. Jane didn’t know how much this placement meant to her. It was the best thing that could’ve happened to her career, but more importantly, her life. Aside from getting her blown up by space aliens, she’d befriended Jane, who (aside from being terribly uptight about work) was pretty fun to be around. In the past few years, Darcy had lost contact with most of her college friends, and Jane was there to hold her (and hold her hair) when some jerk broke her heart.

“Of course you are.” She giggled, not realising the tears cascading down her cheeks. “The Stark thing was an introduction, right? My new job?”

“If you want it.” She pulled her into a hug. “Darcy. Don’t cry. You’ll start me off, too.”

“I’m not crying,” she choked. “I’m happy for you, I really am, but I’m gonna miss you and the stud muffin. You’ll have to visit.”

Darcy adjusted her crooked glasses and regained her composure. “Anyway. You’ll be a Queen, won’t you? Lording it over the common folk.”

Jane looked horrified. “God.”

“C’mon. Heimdallr will be waiting on us.” Jane dumped Darcy’s heels in her humongous bag, which Darcy slung over her shoulder, trusting Jane had packed all her things.

*

They stood nervously at the Bifrost site, looking up to the skies. Jane’s mother, who drove straight to the site, were greeted with nervous ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’. They joined them, all looking up at the sky, waiting in trepidation. Jane’s mother looked exactly how Darcy had pictured Jane in 30 years- slender and graceful, with dark brown hair just greying, waving down onto her narrow shoulders. She glanced Darcy’s way and gave her a quick smile. She returned it with a small wave.

“Heimdallr, open the bridge.” Thor’s booming voice was subdued, and he snuck a glance at Jane’s mother, who honestly looked scared to death. Darcy started to chuckle at the awkwardness, when the sky opened up and a force pulled her from all angles. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t breathe. Darcy looked over at Thor and Jane, who seemed graceful in their flight. Her mother was taking it well enough, but Darcy felt like she could throw up.

Darcy saw the glittering bridge coming toward her, and caught a glimpse of Asgard’s beautiful golden glowing spires before she blacked out.

After what felt like a lifetime, her eyes opened slightly. People were arguing. No, she corrected herself. They were discussing something heatedly.

“We can’t put her in there!” She heard.

“Why not? The place is full of guests. There’s no room.”

She tried to speak up, to stand up, but when she lifted her head, her eyes rolled back and she fell into darkness again.

_Great going, Darcy. You really arrived in style._

 

She woke up feeling groggy and dizzy. The room was bright and airy and she squinted at the light. She laid on a double, four poster bed with elaborate, beautiful emerald curtains. Everything was beautiful in this room, from the majestic arched windows, to the warm woollen rugs on the stone floor. It looked like something from a different era. She sighed - of course it looked different. She was in _Asgard_ of all places, a different realm. And she’d passed out in front of all the welcoming Asgardians.

Darcy got up and buried her head in her hands, her face burning red. “Eughh, fuck.” Her voice muffled against her hands.

With that motivation, she pushed down her first memory in Asgard and replaced it with another one, rushing to the window, to see what Asgard _really_ looked like. She gasped as she took in the view for the first (second) time. Everything was shining and modern, but old fashioned at the same time. The sky was a plethora of colour, with beautiful blues and purples, reflecting off the golden spires. In the distance, she could see the Bifrost, emitting a spectacular blue glow at the end of the sparkling glass-like bridge. Underneath it, clear water flowed endlessly and melodically into a deep chasm. It was beautiful. Full of colour and grandeur, she’d never seen anything like it- not in photos or photoshopped pictures on those god awful motivation posters she used to own.

She grasped the cold stone windowsill in reassurance that she was _here_ , in _Asgard_. Home to the Aesir and _Gods_. Actual living _Gods_. She put her back to the window, suddenly overwhelmed. That didn’t help. The room she was in was stunning, too. The massive bookshelves covered most of the walls, with a grand chandelier dangling its crystals, which seemed to have a gorgeous, supernatural glow about them. She traced her fingers over the leather bound looks, and shivered. Dark, wooden tables and drawers with elaborate carvings were scattered around, and there was a small leather chaise longue with the same carvings. The bathroom was hidden behind a modest screen, with a spectacular waterfall-type shower and golden bath that could double up as a small swimming pool.

“Phew.” Darcy needed to sit down. But she suppressed the lure of the luxurious emerald silk duvets and went to find the others.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

She didn’t need to go far. As soon as she was out of the door, a beautiful Asgardian woman with a dark brown braid and a kindly soft face stopped her. Her face was familiar, but not immediately recognisable. “Lady Darcy.” She did a bit of a curtsey.

“Just Darcy,” she said, her face reddening at the formality. Hardly a Lady, she thought, looking down at herself with a hidden snigger.

“Then I am ‘just’ Sif,” she smiled. Her face lit up, and her chocolate brown eyes glinted. Sif was otherworldly beautiful, her hair shiny and her body was slim and lean. She felt a pang in her stomach when she thought of her ordinary reflection in the mirror. Asgard was definitely a place for the beautiful species.

With a jolt, she remembered why her face was familiar. She’d seen her once, when Sif travelled with the warriors to rescue Thor in New Mexico. It had been a while since then, and naturally, Darcy had forgotten.

“Where are Jane and Thor?” She asked.

“They’re in a meeting with the King and Queen, and Mrs Foster.” Her voice changed whilst trying to pronounce Missus like it was a foreign word (which, to her, it must’ve been). They called people ‘Lady’ or ‘Lord’ here, straight out of a British period drama.

“Oh. Of course.” _Of course._ Darcy had known she was coming here as a third wheel. Or a guest of honour. Either one, depending which way she looked at it. “I am so sorry.” She gushed, typical Darcy style, words falling out of her mouth with no filters. “I felt a little bit spaced out when we were travelling and then –BAM- I hit Asgard turf and I blacked out in front of _everyone_. I’m so stupid.”

Sif laughed musically. “Oh, Darcy. Do not worry. The first time Thor travelled by Bifrost with Mjolnir, he had unintentionallyhit himself with it when we journeyed, and when we landed, he could not stand straight!”

Darcy burst out laughing. “Thor? Seriously?” She sighed. “So I didn’t make too much of a fool of myself? I heard arguing.”

Sif’s smile wiped off her face in a flash. “It wasn’t you, Darcy. We had not anticipated your arrival, as Jane had told us only her mother was attending. So naturally, the castle’s rooms are full with wedding guests coming from all branches of Yggdrasil for the union.”

“Oh. Well, if that’s a problem, I can always haul ass back to Midgard. Honestly.” Darcy looked back at the room she woke up in. “So is this your room? It’s really pretty.”

Sif’s eyes blazed, and for a split second, she looked furious. “It’s not my room.” Darcy took a cautious step backwards.

“Um. Sorry?”

“Even you may encounter a problem with the room if I told you it is Loki’s old chambers.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped open for the second time in two days. “Oh… Loki’s?” He must’ve been locked up somewhere, his stuff gathering dust for over 2 years. She suddenly felt sick about how beautiful she found it when she woke up. Loki had lived in this room, he had decorated it with the things she had found stunning and magnificent. Sif noted her step back and smiled reassuringly.

“Darcy. If you have a problem with living here for the duration of the wedding, there are still rooms outside the castle, though inconvenient.”

“No,” she found herself saying. “It’s not the room that decided to trash New York, attempt to enslave a race and fratricide. Besides, I don’t want to be a problem.” _Further problem_ , she thought, annoyed. _Why had Jane forgotten to mention she was on the guestlist?_ She did seem a bit bogged under lately, with SHIELD on her ass all the time, not to mention zapping from Asgard to Midgard every two seconds to visit the in-laws.

Sif smiled, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You have an excellent point.” Sif went to walk away when Darcy called her back. “Wait! What am I supposed to do now?”

“I have my duty now. Feel free to explore the castle to your hearts delight. You’ll know where you’re not permitted entry, but the castle is relatively open.” She turned to leave again and paused, remembering something. “Oh. Here. I almost forgot. If you get lost, use this to take you back. You need only think of your destination inside the castle grounds and it will transport you there.” She pressed a cold object into Darcy’s hand, smiled knowingly and vanished down the corridor, leaving Darcy by herself, surrounded by Loki’s belongings.

And the strange gem in her hand attached to a silver chain. It was a beautiful colour. Well, _colours._ The same colours as the Asgardian sky, like they’d condensed into a crystal. It was a small pebble-type thing; smooth and circular, glittering. She moved it through the light, and admired it as the fog inside it seemed to move as if it were alive. She automatically put it around her neck, admiring it in the reflection of a mirror as it sparkled. There were too many mirrors here- but Darcy realised that if she was as stunning as these Asgardians, she wouldn’t be able to tear herself from her reflection.

She looked back into the room with a shiver and felt curiosity pull her in again. Instead of swiping her fingers across the leather books, she looked at the titles with unrestrained curiosity. Most of them were history, some of them magic and some of them had no title at all. The monster that had devastated New York had been here, touched and read those books, looked out of the same window and slept in the same bed. She shuddered again, feeling strangely conflicted.

Wanting to get away from the books and magic of the room, she held the strange gem on her necklace. “How the hell is this supposed to work?” She muttered to herself. Letting her loose with a magical object was probably not a good idea. They obviously didn’t know her well enough.

Feeling a burst of childish inspiration, she held it tight and thought her hardest, like she was in a movie. She felt lame and silly with her eyes screwed shut, squeezing on the gem as if she were trying to burst it. _Palace_ _gardens?_ The request was more like a question in her mind, and she opened her eyes to the soft wind rustling her hair. “Woah. Cool. Very ‘Harry Potter,’” she giggled to herself.

It had worked. She looked around herself, immersed in what must’ve been the Palace gardens. It was beautiful, like everything here.

Suddenly, she felt an urge to explore more. Being naturally inquisitive (and unashamedly intrusive), Darcy went into all parts of the castle, sometimes coming across people who looked at her in confusion and shooed her away when she went into places she shouldn’t have been in. She stopped in the dining room, laughing at how much fun invading people’s privacy was. After spending the remainder of the day transporting and exploring, Darcy felt herself drained and sluggish. Nobody had told her _how_ the gem worked. Hell, no one had told her that it _would_ work. She figured Jane was busy, and the chances of her making a friend that wouldn’t get offended by something she’d say here was less than zero. Her friends on Midgard cringed at the stuff she said- here in Asgard it would be twice as offensive.

As night fell, she felt the (sickening) desire to snuggle up to those silky sheets in her (Loki’s) room and fall into a deep sleep. Sighing, she got ready to transport again, feeling a little ashamed that she found Loki’s tastes akin to her own. Well aside from murder and world domination. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought hard. _Loki’s room_.

 _What?_ She thought as she opened her eyes. She thought she’d gone blind, and scuffled about in a panic, until her eyes adjusted to the light (or lack of). She heard a muffled cough, and followed the sound. _She shouldn’t be here._ She knew it, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found her feet dragging her toward the noise, and the light. The cold stone floor echoed as her boots took step after step.

She halted when she heard a door slam, and a woman’s voice. She hid herself in the shadows and held her breath. Her feet were planted to the floor and she froze, terrified.

The woman moved into the candlelight, and Darcy stifled a gasp at what must have been Frigga, her beautiful blonde hair spiralling up into an elaborate bun. She recognised her through the many tapestries and paintings around the castle. She squinted, wishing she’d picked up her glasses before she left.

 “Son.” She said, her dress making an eerie sweeping noise every time she took a step. “Oh, Loki. You look worse every day I see you. Are you eating?”

 _Loki? Shit._ She’d thought of Loki’s room, and ended up being literally _in_ the room that Loki was in. She knew she shouldn’t be here, but her eyes adjusted enough to make out Loki’s pallor, pain-drawn face and held her curiosity. His cheekbones were more prominent than the pictures she’d seen in New York, and his skin seemed too tight on his face, as if he had been malnourished. He was sat in the very corner of the room, his slender body scrunched up in a protective position.

Darcy looked on in confusion as she saw the face of Loki transform from a scared but defiant five year old into a look of relief and relaxation. What had come through that door in the past that caused _Loki_ of all people, to fear? His clothes were torn and wrinkled, his face slashed and dirty. His sunken green eyes tracked Frigga from across the room.

“Mother.” He said. His voice was full of affection, though his face was unreadable.

Frigga knelt down next to her son and cradled him in her arms. Darcy watched in confusion as he closed his eyes and nestled into his mother’s embrace. This definitely wasn’t the same Loki Darcy had seen on TV, blowing up New York. He looked fragile, well past breaking point. How broken must he have been to actually accept affection?

“Loki, I can’t see you like this anymore.” Frigga’s voice shook.

“It’s all part of father’s plan.” He whispered, contempt in his voice. “I am a used up relic, a trophy from the war. I would have been in his prized collection if my behaviour wasn’t so…”

“You know that your father does everything for a reason.”

He took this silently- only a sigh escaped from his chapped lips.

Darcy felt rude intruding on this obviously private moment, but too engrossed to leave. She liked watching the God who had wreaked such terror on Earth to be reduced to a whispering wreck. Part of her felt pity, but only a small part. Loki had deserved this pain. 2 years here was not enough to acquit him of his crimes. She thought of Erik, and how he shuddered to remember his time under the influence of this monster, even after two whole years.”

Frigga sighed and let go of her son, gently pulling away. “ _Your_ actions have put you here, Loki. Reflect on that, at least.”

“… I know. I am.”

“I must go. Your father is getting suspicious of the news he receives of my visits. He is close to revoking my access to you.”

“Then go. I would rather see a second of you than nothing.”

“Goodbye, my son.”

With that, Frigga got up, and with one last painful look at her ragged son, she pulled open the door and left.

Darcy felt like it was time to go.

“Who’s there?” Loki’s demanding voice had her feet frozen to the spot. She should’ve transported the hell out of there that second, but instead she stepped into the half-light.

“Darcy. Darcy Lewis.”

"Are you real?" Loki's voice was rough and demanding. 

"Last time I checked."

Loki leant back into the corner with a sigh. “A mortal in Asgard. How quaint.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “A God in a prison cell. How uninspiring.”

Loki looked mildly amused, as he usually did when insults were thrown his way. He didn’t have the strength to move his body, but his facial expression conveyed the message.

She rolled her eyes. “You use mortal as an insult. You don’t even know me.”

“I know who you are. A little lost are we?”

“You trashed my town, so obviously you know me. You think I came here on purpose? I could think of other places where I’d like to be other than here.”

“Yet you’re still here. Remind me how that came to be?”

Darcy’s hand went to touch the gem around her neck.

 “Ah.” Loki said in understanding. “Mortals and magic.”

“You…” Darcy took a step forward. “You look like shit.” She finished, wishing she had said something intellectual. Even half-dead, Loki still managed to remain eloquent and witty.

“I think 730 days in an Asgardian cell would have you looking rather… drab.”

He’d even counted the days. She was surprised that there weren’t tally marks on the walls. “Are they torturing you?” She blurted out.

 “Would you like that?” Loki leered.

Darcy took a step back. “Not into that sort of thing, thanks.” She knew he meant differently.

There was a moment of silence as Loki looked on, unimpressed and unfazed by her nervous joke.

“I had friends in New York.” She said quietly, breaking the silence. It wasn’t exactly a lie- they weren’t her _friends_ \- more acquaintances than anything, but human life meant exactly the same. She walked up to him, feigning confidence, and knelt down where his mother had just knelt, looking at his broken form close up. Even his hair hung limp about his face, some of the strands looking as if they were seared off with heat. Darcy, even in this moment, couldn’t help admiring his amazing bone structure.

“Ohhhh.” He drew it out, an echoing hiss and leant toward her, invading her personal space. She stood her ground, knowing he was powerless. “ _That_. Let me tell you something, Darcy.” His voice twisted around her name like a poisonous snake. “The quarrel you seek is with the Chitauri, not with myself.”

“Huh. So you didn’t murder anyone?” She said sarcastically.

“I don’t deny the act. Just the responsibility. But someone has to play the villain.” He got quieter as he reached the end of the sentence. His narrow shoulders slumped, looking tired and dejected as he leant back again, into the corner. “I should have never underestimated influence.” He muttered to himself.

“I saw how you acted with your mother. You have some compassion left, right?”

“It seems so.” He answered immediately, shocking Darcy. She thought he’d deny it.

“So you actually love her? It’s not a trick?” She was overstepping her boundaries now, and Loki must’ve thought it, too.

“Does everything I do _have_ to reek of mischief and hate?”

“You’re the God of Mischief.”

“And there you have your answer.”

Suddenly she found herself annoyed. Annoyed at the fact people put him down, called him a monster and he didn’t even stick up for himself, even though he seemed to think himself not entirely guilty.

 “That’s _my_ answer though. Why don’t you stand up for yourself? You’re so… calm and collected. It’s creepy.”

Her voice rose to a half-shout, still cautious of who may be listening outside. After Loki looked at her blankly, she stood up and turned to leave. There would be no point talking sense into someone who has lost all will to live. She felt long, paper thin fingers grip her hand as she got up, pulling her back down again.

“Will you return?” His voice had gone back to the whisper he had used with his mother. It lacked compassion and feeling, but Darcy felt her heart tighten when she looked into his blank, dull green eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. She found herself nodding as something changed inside of her. The thin, frail fingers released their grasp on her arm, trailing down to her wrist and away from her.

She touched the gem again and thought _Loki’s_ former _room._ She knew it had worked when she felt the air grow warmer, and the environment less sinister. She opened her eyes to Loki’s room, and felt herself grow cold again. She was supposed to hate him. Hell, she _did_ hate him. But she still felt compelled to go back to that bleak room to talk nonsense with a man who had no feelings or conscience or any desire to explain himself. Cryptic bastard, she thought bitterly.

It didn’t stop her from going back the next day, when everything had died down, and Jane was busy in sorting the final touches for the wedding with the family. She’d taken a shower, brushed her teeth and hair. She dug through her things to find a pair of jeans. Damn Jane, she thought. She’d packed anything _but_ jeans. Flinging on a button-down checked jersey dress and some leggings, she picked up her glasses and her hand went to the gem around her neck.

It had been a short and sweet conversation- mostly arguing on Darcy’s half, and amused sarcastic replies on his half. She felt as though she was psychoanalysing him, asking him questions to do with his ‘bag full of cats’ brain. When she had arrived, he looked up in what she thought was eagerness, but a blink later, and his face was unreadable again. She admitted he was more open with her than she had anticipated. Maybe he _wanted_ to talk.

“Your brother is getting married tomorrow.” She said, sitting on the hard floor next to him, cross legged. She played with her hair, still wet from the shower. “To my friend, my old boss, Jane.”

“He’s not my brother.” He muttered, before looking up. “That’s why my mother was here yesterday. She wanted to invite me.”

“To the wedding? Ha, looking like you do, you could probably be a zombie extra.”

“I do not understand your stupid jokes,” he said flatly, as if he was thoroughly pissed off. “You are infuriating sometimes.”

“Hm.” _Sometimes?_ “So are you actually coming?”

“They’re cleaning me up tomorrow to make me look _presentable_ ,” he spat.

Darcy shrugged. “Of course they will. All the worlds-“

“Realms.”

“All the _realms_ will want to know where you’ve been these past 2 years. Whether you’re a new man.”

“I am the same I as ever was, just more tired.” He admitted, then slunk back as if he’d said too much.

Darcy scoffed. “Tired? So you don’t feel bad for what you did?”

“Will ‘feeling bad’ erase all of what I have done in the past?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then I do not need to feel remorse. I just need to be a part of these people’s retribution.”

“So you’re just taking the punishment?”

“What else can I do?”

“You can feel bad for what you’ve done. I dunno, maybe atone for your actions, or try making it right. Explain yourself.”

“The moment I came back, I knew exactly where they were going to put me, and I did not fight it. There is no point in fighting once you’ve lost. Besides, I am not taking responsibility for your _New York._ ”

“Not taking responsibility?” She looked at him hard.

He looked back, and she felt as if she needed to look away – those eyes, though dead and dull now, still felt piercing. “It is hard to be in control of your actions when your fate is decided for you by others. A helpless puppet on a string.”

“Quit the riddles, Loki, tell it straight.”

“Why should I? No one believes me except my mother, and even she is repulsed by my true nature. You know what I am. You’ve accepted that truth, as has everyone else. Me being a monster is just a bonus.”

Darcy sighed, feeling a little sorry for him and his labels. She shook her head and tried to forget that last thought. She could never feel sorry for a murderer, not even one that looked like a sad, lost puppy. But even then, the puppy you trusted could grow up and maul you to death. _Nice and dark, Darce._ She gladly pulled herself out of her thoughts.

“I’m leaving. Jane is probably wondering where I am.” She stood up. “A little advice to you though. If you really want people to change their views about you, number one: stop murdering people. Number two: if they get it wrong, correct them- don’t hold back on details. They all think you’re who you are now because you haven’t bothered to correct them.”

“Rather late now.” Loki said with a scoff.

“Hmm.”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” He said, not looking up.

“Do you want me to be?” She looked hard at the pile of skinny rags in the corner.

It took him a while, but he managed a nod. Her lips pulled up into a small, sad smile and she found herself in her room again.

It was only minutes later when Darcy heard a quiet knock on the door. She flung it open to find Jane beaming from ear to ear. Darcy was thankful she came back just in time- she wasn’t about to tell Jane about her pet villain. “How are you feeling?”

Darcy smiled back the best she could. “Super. When do we eat? I’m starving” It felt like she’d been here years. One thing she missed was snacking in between meals, not used to this set breakfast, lunch and dinner lark. However, having servants to do stuff for her was a redeeming feature. Her laundry was always overflowing at home.

“I was just about to grab you and get you ready for dinner. Apparently everyone will be having dinner in the grand hall tonight. Oh, Darcy, I’ve met loads of legendary people these past two days. Gods, I mean. Actually talking to me like I’m important. And tomorrow…”

Darcy leant against the doorframe, grinning. “Tomorrow you get to be part of all this, right?”

Jane let out a quivering sigh. “I don’t know Darce. I’m not ready for this. They’re giving me immortality.”

“You love Thor, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you’re ready. You’ll be fine.”

Jane gave Darcy an unexpected hug. “Thank you.”

“Also...” She looked behind her into Darcy’s room. Darcy moved out of the way and let her in, watching her as she took in her surroundings. “Are you sure you’re fine in here?”

“It’s just a room, Jane. Don’t sweat it.”

“It’s just… It’s creepy in here.”

Darcy looked around her, feeling a familiar shiver up her spine. It was beautiful in here, she had thought before. Non-threatening. She found herself frowning.

“Creepy?”

Jane nodded. “You don’t think so?”

Darcy shrugged. “I don’t care. The bed is more than comfy, the shower works like a dream. Everything is hunky-dory. Now take me to food, woman.” She dragged Jane out of the room, laughing, trying to forget the image of a broken Loki in the prison cell just minutes before.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy woke up next morning, tangled in silk sheets with no idea how she had gotten there. Asgardian wine was definitely dangerous, she thought with a dull ache in her head. The last she remembered was trying to drink Volstagg under the table. Apparently, that hadn’t worked. But it didn’t matter- everyone was roaring drunk at the feast. After all, it had been the night before Thor and Jane’s wedding. She didn’t even want to know what the actual _wedding_ would be like.

“Shit.” She cursed, dizzily standing up and clutching the bookshelf for support. It was Jane’s wedding today, and she needed to be there for her. She could easily see Jane clutching at her face, stressing out on what to do, what to wear. Jane had always been like a sister to Darcy, and Darcy felt it was about time she should return the favour. She showered and got dressed into her dark purple shift dress (sexy underwear underneath), brushed through her hair and put a bit of make up on. It had amazed her how perfect the women were here- no makeup, no plastic surgery or anything. Like a land of flawless celebrities in dresses designers would kill to make.

She clutched the gem that still hung around her neck, and then paused. She remembered the conversation with Loki, realising she had promised to go back for the third time before the wedding. Part of her fought against this urge to go and visit him, but another, stronger part of her was clutching the gem around her neck more tightly. Darcy knew instantly where she was going.

She held the gem tight. _Loki’s room._ She found herself, again, in the company of a monster. It worried her how easy it was to make the decision to return again and again.

“Loki?” She called out cautiously. She took a step into the candlelight again and surveyed the sleeping man, his lanky frame slumped in the corner, his expression far from blissful sleep. “Loki.”

She prodded him cautiously. He stirred, and looked at her with scared eyes. “Who were you expecting?” She said, eyebrows raised as his expression sunk back to his normal, bored look.

“You came back.” He said, simply. Not with gratitude, but as if it was a fact.

“I said I would.”

“You did. But I did not believe you.”

“Why do you ask me to come back?” Darcy asked, intrigued.

Loki looked at her and sighed. “The entertainment is lacking. The only visitor I get is my mother.”

“So you’re lonely?” Darcy said, half mocking.

Loki narrowed his eyes. “I may have lost my liberty, but I have not lost my brain nor my fury.”

“Well, let me know when you’re attempting a Shawshank, and I’ll get out of your way, sharpish.”

She heard approaching footsteps, and panicked, looking at Loki’s amused face. He raised his eyebrows at her, expecting her to disappear.

“I’ll see you soon, I expect.” Loki grinned as she vanished, only to arrive outside Jane’s room, her heart beating like a drum.

She looked at the thick wooden door, not wanting to interrupt anything, but, being impatient Darcy, she knocked and then strolled right in after seconds of waiting.

“Darcy!” Jane’s voice was a caution. Darcy put her hands over her eyes but the image was imprinted onto her retinas. _Eww._ Mind you, she knew a couple of people who’d pay to see what she just saw. Sign of her questionable acquaintances, she thought wryly.

“Sorry.” Darcy went to back out of the room, when she bumped into another person right behind her. Spinning around, she saw Fandral, one of the warriors three. “Come to see the show, too?” She laughed, and pushed him out of the door, closing it right behind her.

It took Jane 1 minutes and 48 seconds to answer the door- Darcy counted with a smile on her face. Fandral frowned at her counting, wondering what Midgardian behaviour this was. Still he kept quiet- probably in embarrassment.

“Darcy. Fandral.” Jane poked her head out of the door, flustered. Darcy just grinned at her and raised her eyebrows. Fandral spoke first, wanting to talk with Thor. Jane let him in and turned on Darcy. “Couldn’t you have knocked?”

“I did. Then I let myself in. I didn’t know you were going to be indulging in a bit of morning sex.” She nudged Jane playfully until she smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured we’d have ourselves some mental prep time. How long do you have?”

Jane looked at her watch. “Oh. About 5 hours till the actual wedding. It’s Asgardian custom to marry when the sun is about to go down. Don’t even ask me why.”

“Why?” She said with a sly smile on her face. “Have you got your dress? How’re you feeling?”

“Yes, and I’m fine. Honestly, I’m pretty calm after you talked to me.”

“Well, you know. When I go back, maybe they’ll give me a Psychiatrist job. I’m good at talking to the nutcases.” She knew she meant that in more than one sense, thinking back to Loki.

As if Jane had read her mind, she closed the door softly and began to walk Darcy down the corridor.

“Darcy.” She began tentatively.

“Jane?”

“I’m worried about something.”

“What is it?” Jane’s hesitance made Darcy uncomfortable.

“There’s going to be an extra guest at the wedding. As per Frigga’s request. And Thor’s.”

Darcy let out a sigh, knowing exactly what she was talking about. “Let me guess…” Thinking of her _favourite_ pet prisoner, she said with resignation, “Loki.”

“Yeah… him. I’m worried that him being there might make things awkward.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

“ _You_ will?” Jane stopped walking to look at her.

Darcy swallowed. _Shit._ Now she needed to tell all to Jane, and she wasn’t sure what to say. _“Oh, I just happened by an Asgardian prison and talked to one of the inmates. I’m sure he’s a nice guy when he’s not blowing up New York or trying to enslave a race. Oh, and I’ve been to see him 3 times, so I can’t really call it an accident anymore.”_

Instead, she lied. “You know. I’m good at psychopaths. I _have_ seen you without coffee in the morning.”

Jane exhaled, relieved. “Thanks.”

“Anyway,” she said brightly, doing a little twirl in the corridor. “Enough of unwanted wedding guests. Where’s your dress, your stuff?”

“Frigga is having it sent to me. I honestly have no idea what I’m wearing.”

“Are you serious?” Darcy’s jaw dropped as they climbed a spiral staircase.

“Yep. Another Asgardian thing. I need to be there in an hour for hair and make-up.”

“It’s taking them _4 hours_ to do your hair and make-up? God forbid I ever get married.”

“Have you even seen the women round here? They’re like… perfect.”

Darcy huffed. “And so are you. Stop having an inferiority complex. Have you seen the way Thor looks at you? No competition.”

“Really?” Jane looked smug. Then the smugness vanished only to be replaced by horror. “I need to shower. I need to get my mother. I need to-“

“Woah, woah, woah there Jane. I thought you were calm?”

“Yeah. Calmness.” She hyperventilated and sat on the window ledge, head in her hands.

“I’ll get your mom if you want.” Darcy put a hand on her shoulder.

“No, it’s okay. I need to have a word with my mom anyway. She seems to think it’s funny to joke around with _Odin_ of all people. I don’t think she realises he’s a _God_.”

“Ha. At least you weren’t the one getting drunk with Volstagg.”

Jane flashed her a smile and hopped off the window ledge. “I guess I’ll see you at sundown. I’ll be the one wearing white.” She did a double take. “…Maybe. I don’t even know.”

Darcy stopped and hugged Jane, hard. “You’ll do great.”

She watched her friend walk back the way they came, with a sinking feeling in her heart coupled with a pang of loneliness.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Jane looked more than beautiful heading down the aisle. The mystery dress was a pure white silk thing that draped beautifully over her slender frame, accentuating her tiny waist, the white contrasting against her glowing skin. It was woven with stunning gold threaded seams. In typical Asgardian fashion, they’d managed to sneak bands elaborate gold around her neck, her waist. They were cut beautifully, like spiralling but sturdy artwork. Thor was dressed in his usual gear, but less ‘battle’ more ‘dinner with the parents’. His cape was still there, a heavy dark red contrasting with his dark grey armour and leather. He wore woven wool that covered his arms. His vanbraces had disappeared, as had much of his steel armour in favour of soft leather.

It was amazing though. Darcy hated weddings, but made a special exception for this one. The sun shone through the tall, cathedral-like windows of the hall, casting a glittering orange glow on everything. The place was packed with tons of people- Darcy realised that Sif wasn’t lying when she said guests were coming from all branches of Yggdrasil. There were some inhuman-looking people, with strange skin or weird looking eyes, like something out of Darcy’s sci-fi books.

 She smiled when Jane caught her eye as she walked down the aisle with her mother, and winked. Thor’s expression was the mirror image to Jane’s genuine, radiant smile. Darcy’s heart tightened and she screwed up her face trying not to cry. After all, it would completely mess with her reputation- and her contacts and make-up, which she put on so carefully, picking out her favourite red lipstick and dark eyeliner.

Asgardian ceremonies were shorter than Midgardian ones. There was no singing hymns and listening to speeches. They literally said the words and got it over and done with. Good job, too. As beautiful as it was, Darcy could only tolerate a certain amount of staring from Loki’s direction on the opposite side of the hall. He looked a lot healthier than before though his pale skin was harsh against his grey leather and steel. A lot taller, too. He’d done away with his big metal braces and shoulder pads, like his brother had, and this made him look even slimmer. She couldn’t help thinking he, despite his tall frame, looked smaller. She caught his amused eye a couple of times, only to scowl and look away, admiring Jane and Thor who were now wrapped in a long and slightly inappropriate embrace.

The couple walked out amidst thousands of shouts and clapping and thrown golden confetti. _Poor Jane_. They now had to get in a carriage and do a Royal Procession through the city, where tons of people lined the streets to get a glimpse of the couple. And whilst they were doing that, they all got to start drinking and partying. The feast would only start when they got back, and Darcy felt her stomach rumble and sighed internally.

The crowd in the hall broke up, and a few followed into the reception, held in a smaller, but still as grand hall next door. She heard some soothing classical-type music coming from the side of the hall, played by a set of stunning Aesir with strange instruments. It was more amazing than anything she’d heard back home. She felt someone match her stride, brushing her shoulder in the masses. Knowing who it would be, she met the eyes of Loki Laufeyson without surprise.

“You made it.” She said sarcastically, well aware of the eyes watching them both as people took their seats. Odin and Frigga looked on from the high table, worried, but Darcy tried to stay as reassuringly casual as possible. The rest of the guests were muttering about the special guest appearance, but Loki didn’t seem fazed- or if he did, he was hiding it well.

“Yes, it would seem so.” His eyes looked a brighter green, and all the cuts and bruises had healed, except from some small scars dotted around his mouth. He looked otherworldly handsome, just like the other Asgardians, but his glowing eyes and jet black hair set him apart from the kind-looking Aesir with golden hair and blue eyes. But Loki wasn’t even Aesir. He was Jotunn- the ‘blue ice dudes’ as Darcy called them when Jane had told her of his real heritage. It wasn’t exactly a secret anymore.

“You look… better.” She said lamely. She cursed herself for checking him out.

“As do you.” He raised his eyebrows, his glance lazily surveying her from head to toe. “For a mortal.” He added. She wore her dark green silk dress, the one that sucked in her stomach, hugged her curves and let everyone see more than a glimpse of her breasts thanks to the scooping neckline. It looked ridiculously over the top back home, but here it looked like the norm. Hell, she even felt scruffy. She’d replaced her glasses for contacts, feeling oddly bare without them. She made up for her glasses in jewellery though- she wore the gem Sif had given her, with a bracelet and ring her grandmother had left her.  

She hugged her pale arms around her protectively. “Thanks, I guess. I was kinda referring to your…” She wildly gestured at his face. “… Injuries. Five or six hours and you’re as good as new.”

He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They’d reached the reception hall full of tables, and in the middle, a massive space cleared for dancing. Darcy had hated dancing ever since prom, when the guy she’d gone with was found dancing with another guy when she went to go get drinks. She’d really liked him, too. Shame he wasn’t really interested in her gender.

She did the rounds with Sif, who introduced her to Gods and Elves from places like Alfheim, Vanaheim and places she couldn’t even try to pronounce. She tried not to stare at their inhumanly bright eyes or strange teeth. They didn’t seem too impressed with her, until one of them asked if she had Aesir blood. Taking it as a compliment, Darcy kindly put them right- she was from Midgard, completely human. A few complimented her on her beauty, but after that, they asked her odd and intrusive questions about her lifespan.

She felt their scrutinising gazes switch from her to Loki. He was leant against a stone pillar behind the warriors three, who were greeting passers-by. Their gazes were part fear, part revulsion as they stole quick glances at the black haired guest.

Shrugging the guests off with a vague excuse and leaving Sif talking with a hot Elven warrior, she went to sit at a random table, but felt a hand pull her up before she sat down. Loki’s grip was tight. He scowled. “We have set places, Lady Darcy.” He said, his tone sarcastic and mocking.

“Get off my arm.” She said harshly, jerking her arm away from his in panic. She was rewarded with a quick flash of surprise on his face, mixed with what she thought was hurt. He let go with a scowl. She stumbled across the room, following Sif (who must’ve abandoned the poor Elf dude). Loki trailed behind as if he was scared to be near anyone just in case his touch got misinterpreted as trying to murder them. _Enough with that thinking_ , Darcy scolded herself. _You’re on Thor’s, Jane’s, Odin’s,_ humanity’s _side. Stop feeling sorry for him._

Sif smiled at Darcy, and gave Loki a dirty look. “Here’s your place.”

“Thanks.” Darcy lowered herself carefully onto the chair, making sure her tight dress didn’t rip or malfunction in any way, shape or form. Success. She could sit down.

She saw Odin, Frigga, Mrs Foster and some unfamiliar faces on the high table, realising she’d been lowered in the ranks, and she wouldn’t get to talk to Jane, or tell her how fabulous she looked. Darcy sighed, and looked around at the names on the place cards, written in stunning golden calligraphy.

Half of the names she couldn’t even pronounce, and the others she recognised in passing. She definitely thought it was a bad idea that Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg were sat with her, but at least she had Sif to chat with and maybe regain a bit of composure. She enjoyed the relaxed company of the Warriors three, maybe not so much Hogun, who didn’t talk much. And lastly, she saw Loki’s name. He settled down beside her, looking bored as usual, playing with his namecard, flicking it round his nimble fingers. She almost asked if he’d been relegated from high table, but realised that subject might be a little touchy.

Sif sat down on the other side of Loki, her warrior stance definitely present. No doubt the warriors had been asked to keep an eye on him. She poured herself wine from a jug in the middle. “Here, Darcy.” She passed her a glass.

“Are you sure it’s okay to drink and stuff before they come back? I mean, it’s their wedding…”

Sif laughed. “It is fine. They won’t return for another ten minutes or so. I think they won’t have to catch up to too much.”

“Sweet.” She said, clinking her glass in ‘cheers’ with Sif. Then she remembered the piggy in the middle.

“Aren’t you drinking, Loki?”

He studied her, tilting his head before looking away silently.

“So you’re not talking?” She huffed, watching some more Aesir sit at their table. “You seemed more than happy to talk earlier.”

“Earlier?” He said, his hand a fist under the table. “You mean in my cell?”

Sif’s smile vanished, and Darcy saw the grip on her wineglass tighten. She turned to Loki with a scowl. “What do you mean by that?”

Darcy wanted to punch him and put a cautious hand on Sif’s arm. “I meant two minutes ago you moron. The cell thing… It was a mistake. The gem thing. No one told me how it worked, and poof! I was in some awful prison with an awful person.” She glared at him childishly.

“Mistake?” Loki muttered. He looked confused at her explanation. Hadn’t she sought him out on purpose?

Sif looked troubled, and Darcy suddenly felt guilty as Sif’s eyes flashed up to Odin and Frigga. “Sorry, Sif, it was an accident, I swear. Why would I be looking for him?”

“To procure revenge for your realm?” Sif said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Can we not talk about that?” Loki’s voice was measured, and a little pained, still staring. “I ruined Thor’s coronation, I will not be the one ruining his wedding feast.”

“Oh, look who sprouted a heart.”

“Torture does that to you.” Loki said through his teeth, staring across the room.

Sif and Darcy exchanged looks. Darcy was pretty sure that torture took the heart out of you, not put it back in. Loki’s mind must work in mysterious ways, she thought, confused.

 All of a sudden, Odin was behind Darcy, his heavy hand resting on her shoulder. Her body went stiff in shock, aware of the casual touch of a King on her shoulder.

“Are all of you faring well? Thor and Jane are returning. Get ready to toast. Loki- a word.” He gestured to Loki, and led him to the side of the room. Loki looked as if he was about to resist his father, but walked alongside him. To the guests it looked as if they engaged in friendly conversation, but Darcy wondered if anyone saw the fear in Loki’s face when he glanced at his father.

Sif and Darcy watched his face turn from bored, to interested, to incredulous.

“Um. What was that?” Darcy asked when Loki gracefully lowered himself into the chair beside her and Sif.

“Apparently this reception will double up as my release.”

“You’re getting freed?” Darcy didn’t really know how to react. “How come?”

Loki shrugged, a small smile on his face.  

“Is that smile a ‘I’m-gonna-murder-everyone’ smile, or a ‘I’m-so-happy-to-be-back-in-society’ smile?”

“Neither.” He pressed his glass to his lips, his face unreadable again. “Tony Stark never actually let me have that drink.” He said to himself on a side note, staring into his glass.

Sif scoffed. “The Allfather is probably hoping the news of his release will be drowned out under the talk of this wedding.”

Darcy saw Loki’s fists clench under the table. Her response was drowned out by the cheers coming from the entrance where Thor and Jane had made it back. Jane looked flustered and happy, overwhelmed by the people demanding their attention. She tightened her grip on Thor’s hand as they entered the hall, her small fingers lost in his. Darcy clapped and cheered as they sat down, and the courses arrived on silver platters almost immediately.

Darcy wasn’t even going to be a lady about it. She was about to eat everything they gave her, but then stopped promptly, remembering she wasn’t exactly in stretchy clothing. She put down her fork and belched in time with Volstagg. She could get used to this part of Asgardian culture. “Pardon.”

“Are you eating that?” Loki’s quiet voice tickled her ear as he leant in.

 She shivered. “No. Here. You want it?”

He reached over to take her plate, and it was only then she realised how stick thin he looked. Could you starve a God? He wouldn’t die, would he? She shook that line of thought out of her head, knowing it would lead to her asking about Asgardian torture methods- hardly a subject to be discussing at a wedding.

Jane waved at Darcy from the high table. She waved back and smiled. Jane, in response, pointed to Loki and grimaced, mouthing ‘sorry’. Darcy shrugged with a grin. She was trying to sign language ‘you look really pretty’ to her when Loki leaned in again. “Is it so hard to go up there and talk to her?”

“You can do that?”

He nodded silently over her leftover plate of potatoes and exotic meat from animals she didn’t know existed. She slowly got up, and looked around her. Tons of people were milling around, talking to other tables, but no one went to Jane’s table. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and wobbled up to the bride in her high heels.

“Hey Jane. Don’t worry, not up here for long. Just came to tell you that you looked really pretty today, and you’re definitely rocking the bridal look. Congratulations.”

Jane smiled smugly. “Thanks Darce, you don’t look too bad yourself. Saw some interested guys staring your way when you came up here.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Am I okay to come up here and talk to you? Loki said it would be fine, but then again, I trust him as far as I could throw him.”

“Yeah, you’re fine! You two seem to be getting on… well.”

“I have a knack for the psychopaths remember?” She whispered in Jane’s ear, so she didn’t offend Loki’s family, who just decided to release him for _not_ being a psychopath. Jane smiled sadly.

“Just… Watch out for him, okay?”

“As in look after him, or watch my back?”

“Both. Mostly the latter. Just… Babysit. But be cautious. It’s not your job, it’s Sif’s.”

Darcy scoffed. “He’s thousands of years old. Hardly a baby.”

Jane laughed. As her mother leant over to start a conversation with her and Thor, Darcy saw that as a signal to leave. She confidently strode back to her table, aware of the eyes watching her.

Volstagg’s booming voice welcomed her. “Lady Darcy, you seem to have only had one glass of wine. Here.”

He poured her another drink with a booming laugh. By the smell of him, he’d never stopped drinking. Still, in _Lady Darcy_ mode, she gave him a beaming smile and downed what he’d poured her, throwing her glass to the ground in true Asgardian style. When the feast had finished and the last plates were taken away, Volstagg and Darcy were sat next to each other, laughing. Volstagg kept blabbing on about some mission whilst Darcy tried to keep her head up and her brain conscious. She couldn’t stop giggling, either, and tried to mask each hiccup with a manly cough.

Sif had gone off with Fandral somewhere, and left Loki under the (not so) watchful eyes of Volstagg, who couldn’t even sit straight, and Hogun, who was silently staring off into the distance in what looked like boredom. The other guests at the table had gone off to talk to their friends, and Darcy felt like she was part of the reject table (not for the first time in her life). Loki looked on, sipping wine from his cup with an amused expression on his face.

“… And then, BOOM, the bridge had collapsed, and poor Hogun was trapped on the other side!” He roared laughing at the memory, and Darcy put her head in her hands.

“I wish I was, like, _Asgard_ cool.” She mumbled. “Like, full on Sif-style badass.”

“Sif had to fight for her position. It is not easy for a woman to be a warrior unless they are part of the elite force of Valkeries.” Loki butted in.

Darcy lifted her head up and looked at him with a puzzled expression. She looked over at Jane and Thor twirling in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by beautiful Asgardians in sweeping gowns and elaborate formal wear. Apparently, suits weren’t normal apparel here, with most of the men wearing leather and woven clothing, with ornate metal fixings and buckles.

 She smiled at the twirling figures, and excused herself to visit the toilet. All that wine had gone right through her and she needed somewhere to stop and pull her drunken self together before she made a scene of herself.

Frigga met her when she came out of the toilet, greeting her with a stunning smile. “Lady Darcy.”

“Um, Queen Frigga.” She tried to do a little bow, but stumbled forward, regaining her composure with her grip on a side table. How could she be so roaring drunk in front of royalty? She cringed. “I am _so_ sorry.”

“It is quite alright. It is a celebration after all.” She smiled. “Tell me, Lady Darcy. I’ve heard reports back from Lady Sif about Loki’s temperament at the current time, but I’d like to hear how my son is faring through a different set of eyes.”

She hooked her arm through Darcy’s, and led her to the side of the room.

“Loki? Um.” She thought for a second, not wanting to offend, but knew she would anyway. “He’s… Less psychotic than I had pictured. Kinda moody.”

Frigga frowned. “He has been through a most trying time.”

“He deserved it. No offense.” She added, with a grimace. The comment just fell out of her mouth without warning. She tried to patch it up. “I mean, he’s okay now, but it’s been two years. Most murderers back where I come from get twenty plus or Capital punishment.”

“No offence taken, Lady Darcy. I understand your protectiveness of your race and home. I fear Asgardian prisons are… more demanding than your Midgardian ones.”

Darcy nodded, picturing the bleak room and the darkness. Most of all, the image that flashed through her brain was of Loki’s dull eyes, and his broken expression. “I understand.”

Frigga unhooked her arm from Darcy’s. “May I ask a favour?”

Darcy nodded cautiously. She couldn’t exactly say no.

“Our society seems more than weary of Loki’s presence here. He should be a gentleman, but would you ask him to dance?”

Darcy bit her lip and looked over at Loki’s bored expression. “Me? Why?”

“Well, Lady Sif is tending to other matters, and he can hardly dance with the Asgardians that are still cautious in his presence. It would benefit him in blending back into society.”

“Are you serious?” She said, rudely. Then she completely forgot who she was talking to. Darcy found herself nodding. “Sure.”

Frigga touched her cheek gently. “Thank you. It is going to be hard to get others to accept my son after what he has done. A helping hand would be more than useful.”

Darcy found herself smiling, though she just wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground. “Yeah. Sounds… Interesting.”

Frigga turned and headed back to the high table with a word of thanks, and Darcy found herself fighting the urge to face palm herself into oblivion. “Damnit.” She muttered under her breath as she put all concentration into walking straight and not tripping over her gown.

“Loki.” She said when she reached the table, with a quick look over to Frigga, who was watching them. She nodded her head slightly to Darcy, and then looked away. Darcy took a deep breath and tried to appear as easy going as possible. Drunk Darcy was great at getting guys to dance with her in clubs, but Loki was a different thing entirely. And so was formal Asgardian dancing. “Do you want to dance?”

“With you?” He said immediately, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Well, if you don’t want to, fine. I- “ She was cut off by him getting up and taking her hand. His touch was cold but his fingers were softer than she had imagined. She jerked away, then remembered Frigga was watching them both.

“No, it would be my pleasure, Lady Darcy.”

“Shit.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I was counting on you to say no. I can hardly stand.”

“Then I will do the leading.” He walked slowly up to the twirling dancers, aware of everyone’s eyes on the mortal and the Jotunn prince, hand in hand. He smirked, and put his hand lightly on her waist. He could be charming when he wanted to.

He must’ve been skilled, Darcy thought as they stepped effortlessly through the throng. She was hardly doing anything. One hand was resting tentatively on his shoulder; the other was clasped in his. Her feet didn’t seem to be having any trouble as he guided her, swaying from side to side. She felt herself blush as she felt his touch tighten around her waist, the slender fingers holding her silk covered curves.

She felt the urge to lean in and rest her head on his chest. It looked so… welcoming. He was so tall, too, Darcy pictured her head on his chest, his chin on the top of her head, his lips in her hair.

She stopped her drunken thoughts right there. Sure, he looked beautiful. The combination of slick black hair, pale skin, cheekbones and glowing green eyes were enough to make any girl swoon. But this was _Loki._ And this dance was a favour. A favour at her best friend’s wedding from a Queen.

She stared into his leather clad chest, not daring to look up into his eyes. She knew he was looking at her. His gaze felt as if it would burn a hole through her.

“You’re good at this.” She admitted.

“I practiced. In my cell.”

At this, Darcy managed a genuine giggle. Loki didn’t do humour… Did he? She felt him gently pull her closer with a smirk.

“And tell me. Was my mother’s request too much to handle?”

She looked up and wished she hadn’t. Her gaze would most likely never leave his face, now.

“Mother’s request?” She whispered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not ignorant. I know she’s asked you to accompany me. To help restore my…tarnished reputation.”

Darcy sighed and felt his fingers tighten around hers. He was still staring at her, and her at him.

“I can’t refuse a Queen’s request.”

“Am I _that_ repellent?” His voice shook with either anger or hurt, Darcy couldn’t tell which. She frowned. Probably anger, knowing Loki’s temperament. It was amazing how Loki’s expression could be either one or the other- it made him harder to read.

“I thought you were the type who doesn’t care what anybody thinks about you.”

“I didn’t use to care.” He sighed. “Now…”

He trailed off, as the music became slower. “May I?” He let go of her hand for a hold on her waist. She put her arms on his chest, too small even in heels to put them around his neck. “Go ahead. This is all to show how much they’re supposed to trust you.” She half expected her voice to quiver, but it stayed steady despite the distance between their bodies. She tried not to be fazed by their closeness, imagining his hands around someone’s neck, choking the life out of them. It probably happened in New York, who knows. It made her feel uncomfortable, but at least it kept her guard up.

“How do I know this isn’t some sort of show you’re putting on to make people trust you again so you can betray them again?” She half whispered, feeling the leather under her hands move up and down with every breath.

“You don’t.”

“So you’re going back to the old ways of murder and betrayal?” She said light-heartedly, feeling a little dizzy from the twirling and the alcohol. Not to mention the social pressure of everyone looking at them both staring into each other’s eyes.

“I never said that.” Loki looked over her head, and leaned in closer, so close she could rest her head on his chest. Darcy had a quick look around at the other couples dancing. They were all slow stepping, with much more intimate poses than theirs. She relaxed and leant against his slender body. Her sober, rational self was screaming at her. She ignored it.

“So you’re a good guy now?” Her voice came out muffled against his clothes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the good guy, Lady Darcy.” He said, his voice full of amusement.

“True. You have a hell of a track record.” She said, guiltily savouring the moment quietly until the music came to an end. She broke away from him reluctantly, feeling comfortable in his arms. He went to lead her back to the table when he glanced her way and chuckled to himself.

“What now?” She said irritably.

“You have marks. On your cheek.” He went to touch the impression his clothes had made on her skin, making her blush wildly. Now she could really feel the eyes on the two of them. She tried to picture the fingers on her cheek being the ones that… pulled a trigger on a gun. She could never forget he was a murderer. Watching her back, just like Jane suggested.

“Your stupid clothes.” She went to bat his hand away. He caught it and weaved his fingers through hers leading her back to the table. Volstagg was telling a group of drunken Asgardians yet _another_ tale, but Hogun hadn’t moved, and his wine glass was still empty. She and Loki sat down, his hand still in hers. She pulled away from his cool touch, playing with a stray bit of confetti on the table.

“Interesting.” She heard him mutter under his breath.

“What are you talking about?”

“The reactions of your friend. Especially when I do this.” He leant forward in his chair, facing her and put a gentle hand on her cheek again. His touch was cool against her blazing red cheeks.

“Hey!” She glanced around. “Stop that. No wonder Jane reacts when you do that.”

He tilted his head to the side playfully, both his hands now on the table uncomfortably close to hers. He definitely lived up to his mischievous title. “Why? My mother has no doubt told her about her request.”

“It’s not that. It’s…” She searched her wine-addled brain for a suitable word. “Intimate. Weird.”

He raised his eyebrows, and Darcy found herself without restraint again, words tumbling out. “Haven’t you ever dated anyone?”

“Dated?”

“Sorry. Um…haven’t you ever been in a relationship with anyone?”

 “You think I don’t know what ‘intimacy’ is.” Loki rolled his eyes, then leant back in his chair and thought hard. “There have been a few, relatively short, encounters. None that I have been especially willing to continue.”

Darcy laughed into her wine glass. “Huh. Figures.”

“What?” It was his turn to be annoyed now.

“You’re like a robot.”

Loki looked at her, confused. Darcy rephrased her words again. “Um, like an emotionless person. I bet you never let anyone in.”

“I never had any reason to.” He looked down and Darcy felt like her drunken openness had loosened Loki’s tongue.


	6. Chapter 6

Although she felt like she was making progress with the dysfunctional prince, she felt a little disappointed when he excused himself. Watching curiously, she saw him strike up a hesitant conversation with Thor, who seemed more than enthusiastic to listen. It wasn’t long until a server pulled a chair up to the table, and Loki sat uncomfortably between his father and his brother.

Darcy watched intently as the two brothers exchanged words. She could see the family were cautious but welcoming, and Darcy half wondered if they were patching things up between them. She followed their conversation with a scowl, looking around at the three empty seats beside her, where Loki, Sif and Fandral had once sat. She presumed Sif and Fandral had something going on, so it wasn’t surprising that they had both disappeared at the same time.

Darcy poured herself another glass of wine, suddenly feeling too sober for a wedding celebration. She’d been to her fair share of weddings, and made a fool of herself in every one. She figured Asgard wasn’t a good place to make a drunken fool of herself, but that didn’t stop her from downing yet another glass. That was when she saw Loki rise and begin to walk her way with the same unreadable look in his face, but a spring in his step. Her observation was cut off abruptly by a man’s voice beside her. She looked up in surprise.

“Midgardian, correct? Queen Jane’s friend?” He smiled with a flash of perfect white teeth. His voice was soft, akin to the readers of Darcy’s small collection of audiobooks. He had a blonde mess of shoulder length hair, braided back from his face, and wore black leather decorated with swirling, Celtic-like décor made from gold and steel. He was handsome, gazing down at her with a boyish smile, and Darcy found herself smiling back.

“Yeah, that’s right. Heyo!” Her voice felt slurry- she had to concentrate very hard to get the words out properly. “Where are you from? Asgard? You look Asgardian.”

“Glitner.” She had no idea if that was his name or where he came from. “My name is Forseti.” He said with a response to her blank look. He reached out for her hand and gave it a soft brush of his lips.

“Darcy Lewis.”

Forseti took her hand again and held it in his. “Would you like to dance?”

Darcy would’ve just _loved_ to just sit there and listen to Volstagg’s stories over and over, but being pissed at Loki and the others for leaving her alone, she felt restless. And conflicted. She looked back, where Loki had slowed his pace, a frown on his face. She looked into the kindly eyes of Forseti and noticed their difference to Loki’s. Where he was all black, green and ghost white, Forseti was blonde, tan and golden. Complete opposites. With one last fleeting look at Loki behind her, she decided.

“Absolutely.” She took his hand as he led her to the dance floor. Where Loki’s touch was cool and soft, Forseti’s was warm and tight, grasping her hand uncomfortably. She stopped dancing suddenly, earning her a confused look from Forseti. “What is it?” He said, concerned.

“Nothing.” She shook it off, and continued dancing. God, she had to stop comparing this guy to Loki. She’d known him two seconds, and was judging him by the brief experience she’d had with the Asgardian-Jotunn ex-prisoner. She tried to push him out of her mind, and tried to enjoy the night with Forseti, who was charming and amusing. It didn’t help that Loki was now staring at them both dancing with a… betrayed look on his face. Darcy shook it off- he’d left her for Thor and Jane before to talk, he could do it again if he felt lonely. Besides, the deal with his mother was to dance, not to patch up any hurt feelings.

It wasn’t long until they sat down at the table again, Darcy feeling the pain from her high heels. She cast a quick look over at Loki, who was now sipping wine and listening to Volstagg’s never ending tales, occasionally nodding. Forseti smiled widely, extending a hand out to Loki. “Nice to meet you, Loki Odinson.”

“Laufeyson. I’m sure the nine realms know of this family’s embarrassment.” He corrected him with a sneer. He looked away from Volstagg and then to the hand that went to shake his in disgust. Forseti dropped it with an awkward look on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” Darcy hissed under her breath, though she knew _exactly_ what was wrong with him. “Couldn’t you be nice for two seconds?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. Obviously not.

Forseti looked sheepishly at Darcy. Loki got up swiftly and moved to the side of the room with an exasperated look on his face, leaning on a nearby pillar as he had done earlier.

“What the hell was all that about?” Darcy pulled a face, then grinned, hypnotised by his bright blue eyes. “What a drama queen.”

“He looks like he’s sulking.” He noted with a smile. “I saw you two dancing earlier. You and he seemed quite smitten.”

“Smitten?” Darcy contemplated telling him about the Queen’s favour, but stopped when she realised that it might halt the repair of Loki’s social standing. “Doubtful.”

“Yes, and vice-versa; For a man who defied his King and waged war, he seems to be… tolerant of you, a mortal from the realm he tried and failed to conquer.”

Darcy looked at him in surprise. She hadn’t really noticed the fact that Loki had been so… nice to her. He’d even opened up to her a little in his cell, surprisingly and she hadn’t thought much of it. After all, that’s what normal people did- although Loki was quite the opposite of _normal_. She’d treated him with suspicion, and rightly so. Loki must have thought her an ant- especially if she had met him back in New York. But now… It was hard to tell if he was acting charming, or he had truly been rehabilitated.

“He’s only tolerant ‘cause if he murders me it’ll mean he’ll be imprisoned again.” She scoffed.

Forseti looked at her, tilting his head. “So you have no feelings toward him?”

Darcy glanced at Loki, who was pulling the ‘moody teenager’ look at a nearby pillar. His glance met hers and she looked away quickly. “He made a lot of big mistakes, Forseti, and it’s understandable us ‘mortals’,” She air-quoted, “haven’t forgiven him for the mess he made of our realm.” She saw him glance at Loki, who scowled back at him. “But he’s out in the open now, so he must be okay.”

Something changed in Forseti’s look, and without warning, he leaned over and kissed her. He slid his hands down her back, soft fingers brushing the back of her corset like the strings of a harp. His mouth tasted of sweet wine, and she found herself pulling him closer. Although aware of the pair of green eyes watching them both, she reciprocated enthusiastically- this guy was an Aesir, handsome _and_ a gentleman. But something nagged at the back of her mind suddenly, and she pulled away from him with a gasp. She couldn’t help notice the empty spot where Loki had stood, or the shadow retreating out of the hall.

He looked confused. “Have I done something wrong?”

Darcy looked back at him, biting her lip. “No. It’s me, honestly. I think I should go. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a lie- she was dog-tired- the wedding had drained her emotionally and physically and most of the guests had retired back to their rooms anyway.

“One more drink? Please.” He looked at her with puppy eyes. “I won’t even touch you if you don’t wish for it, I promise.”

“Sex is the last thing on my mind right now,” she said brashly, looking at the surprise on his face. Well, she wanted to tell it how it was. “One more drink.” She owed him that. He seemed cute and although he was confident, his sheepish grins reminded of her of her old boyfriend who used to be all coy and bashful.

His returned smile was bright and genuine. “I do enjoy your company over the Aesir women, you know.” She scanned the room as he poured her another glass of wine and passed it to her.

She smiled, her attention now fully on him. “Are they really that boring?”

“No, you’re fascinating.”

“Wow, opportunity well taken.” She said sarcastically and laughed. “It’s the different world thing. Realm thing, I mean. You guys are really interesting just because you’re so… unalike.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“When was the last time you sat in front of the TV for a twelve hour marathon with a family-sized bag of Doritos and a crate of beer?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

He actually looked ridiculously confused at this. She giggled and took a sip of the wine. Ew. It tasted disgusting. They must have different wine on each table. This was bitter, but she drunk it anyway- she was drunk, she would down anything.

“TV? Dor-ee-toes?”

“Cultural differences. Have you ever been to Earth? Midgard, I mean.” She corrected herself.

“Once. It was drab and dull, chimneys everywhere. The place stunk of squalor and smoke.”

She screwed her face up. “Looks like you picked the wrong era.”

“Absolutely.”

She drained the last of her bitter wine with a smile. “Thank you, Forseti, for entertaining me tonight. I’d give you my number, but I hear phones aren’t really a thing in Asgard.”

“It was my pleasure, Lady Darcy. I’m sure our paths will cross again.” He took her hand and kissed it with a sly smile. She turned her back and walked away as dignified as she could.

She wasn’t sure why she was in so much of hurry to get out of there. After all, he seemed like a nice guy. But Darcy couldn’t figure out why she was so suddenly turned off by him. “Damn it.” She muttered, stumbling her way out. She sat down and took her heels off, which had ripped her feet to shreds. Heels in one hand, she marched up to the high table, where only Odin and Frigga sat now. She assumed Jane and Thor had left the party early, and so had most of the guests, looking around at the empty tables. Even Jane’s parents had left, leaving only the King and Queen at the table.

It was quietening down now, and she stifled a yawn as she reached the high table. She bowed her head, unsure of any royal etiquette here. “Thank you for the reception.” She said, looking at their tired faces. “Thor and Jane’s wedding was beautiful.”

Odin looked at her hard, as if trying to figure something out. “You are most welcome, Lady Darcy.”

She bowed her head again and walked out into the corridor, when she remembered the gem around her neck. She wasn’t walking back to her room- she wasn’t sure whether she’d make it. She thought a guest tripping over her unconscious body in the hallway would probably put a dampener on things. She held the gem around her neck tightly once more and transported back to the darkened room with a sigh.

Zombie-like, she stripped down to her underwear, put an old t-shirt on and climbed into the bed, only taking time to drunkenly take her contacts out. She couldn’t be bothered taking her make up off, and snuggled into the quilts with a contented sigh.

“Darcy?” She heard a man’s sleepy voice next to her. Worse, she recognised it as Loki’s. He must’ve moved back to his old room, not knowing she was staying there. She wished she’d have spread out like she usually did, so she could have known he was there earlier, but having a single bed at Jane’s lab for months had put her on auto-pilot foetal position. Plus, her eyes had not yet adjusted to the light in the pitch black room.

“Go back to sleep, Loki.” She mumbled against the pillow, too tired to talk or argue.

“Why are you here?” He demanded, sitting up. “Where’s the blonde haired oaf you were so friendly with?”

She rolled over to get angry but instead stifled a gasp. In the moonlight pouring through the window, she could make out a pale chest, with a set of remarkable collarbones. Damn. She half wondered whether he was fully naked under the sheets until she saw the fabric of his pants around his waist. Hiding her shock, she slurred into the pillow.

“Gone. Where I’ve been staying… All rooms full… When you’re in prison… Thought about the wrong room and found you in prison... Loki’s room. My bad.” She felt herself drifting into a wine-induced sleep; the lure of the silky sheets too much.

“So you didn’t come visit me out of pure curiosity?” He said. She was surprised he’d even got the gist of what she just said. She wasn’t sure _she_ had.

“Accident.” She sighed. “Night, Loki.”

“Get out of my room.” He suddenly sounded like a moody teenager again.

“Get out of _my_ room.” She said back childishly.

“Darcy. You can’t sleep here.”

“Why not? I can’t sleep outside. It’s uncomfortable.” She grew more and more awake by the second, when her body just wanted to shut down and go to sleep. “Shut up, I need to sleep.”

“People will get the wrong idea.” He said through gritted teeth, sitting back up again.

“I’m not moving. Nobody cares.”

“I do.”

“Well move then.”

“It’s my room.” He said stubbornly.

“Just go to sleep, Loki.” She repeated. “I don’t care.” She was sick of arguing like children. She propped herself up on her side and lifted her arm to push the Trickster God down onto the bed with all the force she could muster in her tiredness. She didn’t know what came over her. Loki looked surprised by her sudden touch and laid back down with a defeated sigh. Darcy guessed he was used to doing what people told him to do by now. That thought made her feel a little guilty, but oddly comfortable that he didn’t fight it.

“See. Not so bad.” She mumbled, her hand still on his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall. Even she wasn’t sure if she meant their intimacy, or the fact Loki was doing what he was told for once.

Loki was silent, his breathing steady. She went to draw her hand away in embarrassment when he put his cool, slender hand over hers, placing it gently back on his bare chest. He closed his eyes. “Not so bad.”

For that night, Darcy feigned ignorance and closed her eyes to welcome blissful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

 “Your highness, I can’t find Darcy anywhere,” Sif bowed to the tired Queen Frigga, who was busy saying her goodbyes to guests. 

“With her residing in Loki’s room, and Loki returning from his imprisonment, I didn’t have chance to tell her she has a new room prepared for tonight outside the castle. She just disappeared- I should go and –“

Frigga cut Sif off with a sly smile. “Lady Sif. Leave her be.”

“Pardon, my Queen?” Sif was dumbfounded, almost forgetting her royal manners in her confusion.

Frigga turned her gaze from the departing guests and chuckled. “I know what I’m doing, Lady Sif. Leave her be. Besides, Fandral is waiting for you.”

Sif blushed heavily and began to stammer. “V-very well. Goodnight.”

\--

Frigga brushed through her golden hair, the sunrise casting a beautiful glow around her lavishly decorated Asgardian chamber. She thought back to the conversation she had with her husband before Thor’s wedding. She had been sat in this exact spot…

_She looked into her mirror, seeing her husband’s conflicted look in the reflection behind her. Her voice was a desperate plea, whilst his expression became stony and cold._

_“Dearest, you must take heed of what I say. Like you, everything I do is for a reason.” She turned in her chair to face him, her voice full of anxiety. “You know what I saw, you know what must transpire.” She touched her husband’s face lightly, but he turned and shrugged away from her touch._

_“You cannot interfere. That is a rule you created yourself. You said you wouldn’t throw the future into dismay by your hand.”_

_Frigga sighed heavily. “It is a nudge to the right direction. He’s dancing on a liminal line between redemption and destruction. I will not have him destroying himself again.”_

_“It is not our concern. You know how he is. He will break everything in the end.”_

_“We broke him.” Frigga admitted calmly, as she had done for centuries._

_At this, Odin turned to leave. Before he shut the door behind him, he said in a grave voice. “I will not have you playing matchmaker. The boy chooses his own path.” He closed the door, leaving Frigga alone with her thoughts._

She knew her husband was correct, though she had still interfered. Last time she had tried to save her son, he had died, just as she envisioned. Just as he had, too, in his depressive dreams. Even in the aftermath of such a happy event of Thor’s wedding, she wept bitterly in helplessness.

__

Loki woke, feeling the unfamiliar warmth of a woman’s body beside him. He looked down at her sleeping form, which had snuggled into his arms at some point during the night. Half of him wanted to pull her close, feeling the urge for human contact he’d put off for so long and denied he ever had. He swallowed down the fondness he was quickly developing for weak mortals. He meant to rule them, not the other way around. But he still found himself trying to remember the last time he’d woken like this. His mother had held him in his prison cell, but that had been different. He’d had many women in his bed in the past, but it had been a while since he last felt anything but revulsion for another being.

He brushed back a strand of her hair with a tender touch even he was surprised by. She didn’t even stir- dead to the world. Sighing heavily, he pulled away from her, and got up to shower and dress. He noticed, with annoyance, she’d left her things lying haphazardly around his bathroom; a shampoo bottle, a pink razor, her make up bag and toothbrush. The mortal had definitely made herself at home in his room, he noted with dull annoyance tinged with amusement.

When he got back, she was still dozing. How long did mortals need to sleep for anyway? Her bare leg hung out of the bed endearingly, her mouth half open in a childlike notion, making her look much younger than she already was. Probably drooling into his pillows, he thought with yet another pang of annoyance.

He noticed her bag beside the sofa, something he had not noticed last night when he came in. Her clothes were in a heap by the bedside, the green dress she had worn last night crumpled on the floor. He went to hang it up- he couldn’t stand mess.

“Loki?” Darcy woke up and stretched, feeling the uncomfortable ache of her muscles and head after a night drinking. She sat up, propping herself up on the pillows. Holy crap, this hangover was bad. Her head was pounding, and her body felt fragile, as if she’d been beaten up. Her voice was croaky and her throat felt like she’d swallowed razorblades. She’d deserved it, she thought unhappily. _Just one more drink- really?_

She noticed her dress in Loki’s hands. “What’re you doing with my clothes?”

A giggle escaped her lips, followed by a hefty cough. “I knew it! If you want to try my dress on, all you have to do is ask.” She pictured Loki in her green dress and laughed even harder, her chest moving painfully with each intake of breath. He looked at her blankly, and she took a moment to admire his wet hair. The strands that hung messily over his face made him look younger, more vulnerable. It hadn’t flicked out yet; it was longer than she had thought it was. He put the dress back on the floor in a pile.

With a flick of his fingers, a glass of water appeared in his slender hands. “Here.” He said, feeling slightly disconnected from his own actions. He watched in amusement as she took it with a word of thanks, gulped it down in one and licked her lips. He looked at her a split second too long, watching her small tongue flick over her full lips, mesmerised by the motion.

“How do you still do that?” She asked, perplexed by his magic as she passed the glass to him. He sat himself on the side of the bed and took the glass, dissolving it within a second.

“They didn’t take my magic from me, if that is what you mean. Just my mind.” He was just about to get up when he felt a warm touch upon his arm.

“What is the matter?” He said, looking at her intently.

Darcy swallowed, cursing her impulsive actions. Just because they’d slept beside each other last night didn’t mean she was fond of him. She was tired, and drunk, and she’d had no other place to sleep. She felt no pull toward the God other than his stunning attractiveness, and still had to keep reminding herself he was the bad guy. But she still wanted him to stay, to talk to her. It was frustrating. The war in her brain was making her head hurt even more than it already was.

She gazed back at him, swallowing down the headache and the intense stabbing pain in her abdomen. She just wanted to curl up in a ball with a ton of painkillers. But when she locked gazes with those vibrant green eyes, her mind went blank and she felt herself biting her lip in frustration. _Stop it, Darcy. Stop it._

“Stop it, Darcy.” Loki’s voice mirrored her inner thoughts and she gasped. He couldn’t read minds, could he?

“What?” She said in a panic. “Stop what?”

“This.” He reached out with his thumb and touched her lip lightly where she had bitten it. “Your… lip.” So he wasn’t a mind reader, Darcy thought in relief. But still her pulse stayed the same, a heavy, fast thrumming that he could probably hear through her skin. He didn’t know what he was doing when he reached out to her. His thumb traced her now open lips, her quivering breath quickening as he filled the space between them, sliding up the bedside gracefully.

“Darcy.” He whispered lightly, so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear her name passed through the lips of the troublesome God of Mischief. It was uttered more as a question than anything else. But she didn’t pull away when his hand cupped her face, his fingers brushing her hair, his lips inches apart from hers. In fact, she’d leant in to meet him eagerly. Their lips brushed with a light hesitance, Loki’s fingers gently brushing down her neck, pulling her toward him. Darcy suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach, causing her to reel back from his touch. She sharply pulled away from him, his face full of confusion and hurt until he saw her grasp her stomach, her face scrunched up with pain.

“Sorry. Sorry.” She managed to gasp. “Must be the wine.”

Knowing full well that this was not her usual ‘hanging’ state, she went to get up to go to the bathroom. Loki watched silently as she untangled herself from the covers, her cheeks turning bright red when she realised she wasn’t wearing any pyjama bottoms. He, surprisingly, wasn’t looking at her bare legs. He was observing her face, which, despite her blush, was a deathly pale, her eyes bloodshot in spite of her long sleep. Sweat began to sheen over her pale skin. She looked frail for a mortal.

“Darcy?” He started, when she took a total of two steps and suddenly crumpled to the floor with a gasp. He managed to catch her before she hit her head on the floor. He had thought she was just suffering from a hangover, but she looked worse than that.

“Darcy?” He said again, his breath quickening in panic. Her body slumped, lifeless against his arms. “Darcy. This isn’t a funny joke.”

He felt desperation colour his voice, something he hadn’t heard for a while now. She was hardly breathing, a small wisp of breath escaping her full lips. Her skin was pale and cold. “Valhalla.” He swore, checking her pulse. It was there, but barely. Lifting her up with ease, he felt her body go limp in his arms. He put her body back on the bed with a steady hand, only stopping to cover her bare legs with a woollen throw.

Was it he who had done this to her? Some sort of curse that meant everything he touched died? He felt a sudden pang of what he thought was guilt. Feeling eyes on his back, he turned to find himself under the confused stare of Sif, who, with no answer at the door, had let herself in to assess the damage of last night’s command from Queen Frigga. She stood frozen, with a horrified look on her face. He couldn’t help himself when he yelled at her, causing her to flinch back. “Get help! Now!”

\--

It took a minute for medical aide to get to his room, led by Sif and followed by Fandral, who’d been woken by the noise and commotion, following Sif like a lost puppy. Sif took another look at Darcy’s lifeless body on the bed and went for Loki, who had a light hand on Darcy’s forehead, eyebrows furrowed. She pushed him hard against the wall, blade in hand.

“What did you do to her?!” She yelled.

Loki looked defiantly into her eyes, feeling the blade against his neck draw blood. “Nothing. I assure you, these are not my workings.” He said it coolly, his gaze flicking to the medical aides who were no doubt trying to stabilise her condition with their magic. Sif saw a flicker of concern in his eyes when he glanced Darcy’s way, remembering the way he’d screamed at her for help. She let him down with a sigh.

“You.” She pointed her blade at him. “I will end your life if I find out you have lied to me.”

“You can join the long list of people who want me dead, then.” He muttered. He didn’t even look at her. He strode over to the medics. One of them turned around at his presence and flinched as he nudged him out of the way. He put one hand on her forehead and another on her stomach, concentrating hard. The medics looked at him confused as to whether they should intervene. One began to protest when Loki muttered something under his breath.

“Nerium Oleander.” He said in relief. So it had not been his fault, unless his lips were poisoned.

“Sorry?” The flinching man asked Loki.

Loki sighed and spoke louder, taking the hand off her stomach and forehead. He spewed out words like he was reading from a textbook, never looking up at the medic. “There’s traces of the poison, Nerium Oleander in her body. From the dogbane family Apocynaceae on Midgard. It’s toxic in concentrated doses and causes a racing heart, seizures and…” He looked down at her lifeless body. “Can put mortals into a coma. She must’ve been poisoned. It is too late to use magic to revive her; the poison is slow reacting and has been in her system for too long.”

“How do you know?”

He let out an angry huff and snapped, looking at the man with a scowl. Was this man a medical aide or an idiot? “Do you think these books are here for decoration, you ignorant fool?! The answers are there. My magic does the rest.”

They stood there, gaping, until Darcy’s body jolted, her face contorting before slumping back into the bed. Sif jumped forward. “Take her to a healer. Now. Stabilise her condition. I will go notify Jane.”

Although he was angry, his mind was asking ‘who’ and ‘why’ rather than ‘what’. Loki put a hand on Sif’s shoulder as they lifted Darcy out of the room and disappeared down the hall, wrapping her body in the cover Loki had put over her.

“You think Thor and the mor- _Jane_ are still here? They left for Midgard early this morning with Jane’s mother.” Thor’s wife was now one of them, an Aesir, and could no longer be referred to as ‘mortal’ like he wished to.

Fandral snatched Loki’s hand off Sif’s shoulder. “What happened?” Fandral looked at him with the same suspicion as everyone else.

“Fandral…” Sif sighed lightly, remembering her conversation with Queen Frigga last night.

“No, Sif. He knows _exactly_ what happened here.”

Loki spoke calmly, though he wanted to yell at him. “Where is my gain through murdering a harmless mortal here, under Thor’s protection?”

Fandral remembered Darcy’s clothing when she was carried out, her bare legs hidden under a blanket. He saw the dress crumpled on the floor - it all came together in his mind. “She didn’t come here willingly. You made her come here. You- you-”

Fandral looked at him with disbelief. Sif went to open her mouth, to explain to him that this was all a mistake, but Loki (surprisingly) beat her to it. He closed his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes flicked open and focused on Fandral. Unleashing his barely concealed anger, he spat furiously at him. “I did not touch her.” He turned to leave, when he suddenly remembered what Darcy had told him when she came to his cell.

 _‘If they get it wrong, correct them- don’t hold back on details._ _They all think you’re who you are now because you haven’t bothered to correct them’._

He took a deep breath, looking at Fandral coolly. “She came here, drunk, of her own accord and fell asleep. I hadn’t been notified someone else was residing in my quarters during my incarceration, and was unaware. I did nothing more than humour her. She woke and collapsed.”

With that, he grabbed a random book from his shelf and left for the medical wing to assess Darcy’s condition, leaving Fandral glaring angrily in his direction.

“Sif. Why do you look so relaxed? He abused a guest, and now she’s being stretchered off, comatose! Isn’t there something there that unsettles you?”

Sif looked at Fandral, a soft, reassuring expression on her face as she took his hand in hers. “I spoke with Queen Frigga about the… double booking and the disappearance of Darcy last night. She told me to leave her be. I know she must have plans concerning Darcy, so I did not fight it. There was no abuse, never fear.”

Fandral’s face turned from furious to astonished in a matter of seconds. “So Queen Frigga arranged this?”

Sif nodded silently, gazing at the slender figure disappearing down the corridor.

\--

As Loki descended the steps from his room to the medical wing, two at a time in his haste, he wanted to curse Darcy. His ‘new start’ had been marred on Day One, and worse- Thor and his new bride would be back in a matter of days, and Thor would no doubt be furious. That is, if a fire message wasn’t on the way already.

He stopped on the stairs, reliving the moment the smile slipped off her face and she crumpled to the ground. Anybody else, he would’ve been calm and collected, but with Darcy… Had he panicked? He’d definitely been through that before- he’d seen his own father fall into his Odinsleep, he’d seen tons of people die, most by his own hand. Why did it bother him so much? The feel of her when he woke up with her next to him this morning had confused him. That tender touch of her hair, that brush of lips had been his downfall – a mistake he’d vowed never to make again. He had confused her for someone that mattered. He had confused _himself_ for someone that mattered.

Loki reached the medical wing and, with his book clasped tight in his hand, entered hesitantly. It was a huge room lined with beds and curtains, the ceiling as high as a Midgardian church’s. Open windows let a light breeze in, ruffling his damp hair that had started to curl out at the ends. He passed a few sickly looking patients sleeping, but aside from that, the place was empty. Aesir didn’t get sick often, and wounded only in battle. The medics began muttering upon his appearance, but didn’t stop him as he looked for her.

He finally saw her lying on a bed at the end of the hall, a drip in her arm and a tube in her nostrils for nourishment. He frowned. Midgardian medicine was apparently keeping her alive. Wondering vaguely where they had gotten the medicine and equipment from, and what it was running on, he dragged a chair up to her bedside and buried himself in his book. Every now and then, he stopped reading about the barren wastelands of his birthplace to glance over at her vacant expression. With a sigh, he looked back at the worn paper in his slim fingers, wondering why he was here if he didn’t care whether she lived or died.

Loki sat, book in hand, trying to understand the situation. It was not him that had killed her, and Darcy was a harmless Midgardian- no one would have quarrel with her, would they?

His mind went to the poison he’d found in her system. It was ineffective against Aesir, which meant whoever poisoned her was going for her kind directly, no mistakes there. Loki couldn’t fathom who would want to kill her, much less _why_. Darcy had been the only Midgardian in Asgard, with Jane now fully Aesir. Part of him thought it was an accident, but he’d learnt the hard way that accidents don’t just happen when he was involved.

Two nights he sat there, unmoving. He used his magic to exchange books, and to summon food and drink, so he never had reason to leave the medical wing. Sif came and went with the warriors, but never stayed long because of their duties. Loki didn’t talk to them anyway- he ignored their presence, and they returned the favour. At least he could read here peacefully.

She looked sickly, he couldn’t deny that. Darcy’s condition had been stabilised, but her porcelain skin had a dark, sickly hue to it. He smiled nostalgically into his book as he remembered the first time they’d met in his cell. _‘You look like shit’_ she’d said. Loki couldn’t help noticing how the tables had turned. He reached out to brush her hair back again, staring at her full lips; an absentminded motion that he hardly was barely conscious of doing.

\--

Sif and the Warriors stood at the entrance of the hall, in the corridor with Frigga. “Two days he’s been here, you say?” The Queen asked, her voice low.

Sif sighed. “He hasn’t left her bedside.”

“Have you notified Lady Jane and Thor?” Fandral asked quietly, swallowing down his accusations. He- and the other Warriors- had discussed in depth about how Loki must have been doing this for show. He would give the impression of a sad puppy and Asgard would drop its suspicion toward him. Sif had surprisingly stayed quiet during these sessions, a confusing notion that Fandral and the others took for doubt and uncertainty.

Frigga nodded. “I thought I would allow husband and wife a peaceful few days. They are making their way back to Asgard as we speak, though there is nothing they can do.”

“It is a matter of patience,” Volstagg said quietly.

Frigga watched as the Warriors bowed and left her. She looked at her son from the entrance, taking guilty pleasure in the fact he seemed to _care_ about something for once. She’d seen this scenario in her visions, but seeing it acted out in reality made her heart tighten and a soft smile colour her face despite Darcy’s condition. Without a word, she retreated back down the corridor.

\--

The Warriors Three took in the sight of Loki still by her bedside later that day and scowled. Sif trailed behind, now a neutral party in the ‘Loki depreciation club’-where Darcy was concerned, anyway. Loki saw them enter and was ready for an argument, but it didn’t come. Instead, they moved to let Thor and Jane through, who had finally returned to Asgard.

Jane, tears streaming down her face, lifted her skirts and ran the length of the hall, burying herself in Darcy’s shoulder, taking her hand. Loki watched on in mild fascination. Jane looked up and noticed him there for the first time. “What did you do to her?!” She screamed at him, mirroring Sif’s accusation just two days ago.

Loki closed his book with a soft snap, suddenly sick of people’s assumptions.

“It was not my doing.” He said calmly, looking into her brown eyes that seemed to glow with immortality. Thor’s hand was on his shoulder, and Loki braced himself. He expected him to hit him, or throw him across the room. Instead, he patted his brother’s shoulder affectionately.

“You should get some sleep, brother. You look most unwell.”

Loki shrugged off the casual touch of his brother and watched Jane as she turned to her new husband with an incredulous look. Even though they had talked and resolved a few issues at his wedding, Loki was still not fond of his ‘brother’. His anger and frustration had been simmering for two days now, and Loki found himself overly annoyed at Thor’s kind words.

“I have been unwell the past two years, _brother_.” He spat. “And yet I did not see you so concerned when I was rotting in a cell, or when you were sewing my lips together or- “ Loki stopped and gasped at his own outburst and painful memories. Loki’s fingers went to touch his lips protectively, then curled into fists by his sides. Thor looked at him with a soft expression, despite Loki’s anger.

“Broth- Loki.” Thor corrected himself, knowing it would further anger him. He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to comfort his much changed brother. Thor saw the pain in his eyes, instead of the anger in his tone, and sighed heavily, putting a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder instead. Finally, the words came to him after a long silence. “You left me no choice.”

“I know.” Loki stood up and silently left Darcy’s bedside, glancing at her comatose form briefly, unsure of where he would go next.

 

**A/N:**

**I’m missing Darcy already, and it’s only barely been one chapter since she’s been out, even when things were getting interesting! My advice, don’t worry about it. I’m not, because I have half an idea what the plot is now, wooo!**

***If you’re thinking that this line:**

“He’s dancing on a liminal line between redemption and destruction.”

**Was too intelligent/eloquent for me, then you are rude. But correct! They are nothing other than Tom Hiddleston’s words, from an interview or something… I read them online and instantly wanted to rephrase them (I couldn’t), or fit them in somewhere (I did) because they were perfect in describing Loki’s character, as Tom usually is!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have encroached onto Norse Mythology territory here. All will be revealed at the end for you guys confused about references, don’t fret!

 

 

Thor sat next to Jane as she sat by Darcy’s bedside, her warm hand in Darcy’s cold one. She looked at her friend through tired eyes, watching her chest rise steadily up and down in the comforting sign of life. Thor saw sadly that his wife’s bright eyed expression had been replaced with a dull and desolate look.

“Can’t they do anything?” Jane asked in a dead tone, looking intently at Darcy’s ghost-white face.

“No magic can save her, Jane. We just need to wait. Her body may repair itself.”

“Is your father questioning the guests of Darcy’s poisoning?”

“Maybe it wasn’t an attempt at her life. We can’t rule out accidents.” Thor shrugged, suggesting reasonably.

“Really?!”

“Jane, you must understand that of all things, suspicion toward our guests will end in unfriendly relations. It is not what we need, after the chaos in Jotunheim we barely managed to control.” He saw Jane’s mouth open to protest, turning her gaze to him angrily. “My father has our people investigating quietly. It is common for our neighbours to take offense easily, given the influence Asgard has and the threat we pose, Jane.”

“So he’s not investigating an… an ‘insignificant’ human’s poisoning because he doesn’t want to _offend_ people?” Jane couldn’t understand why Odin wouldn’t investigate, especially when the poisoner was likely to be in the very walls of his castle. “Nearly all of the guests have gone home- it’s impossible to find them! They should’ve started this days ago!”

“Please, Jane.” Thor put a gentle arm around her, sighing deeply. “I will ensure I find the person responsible, with or without my father’s help. Besides, Darcy could tell us herself, when she wakes up.”

Jane noted his use of ‘when’ and not ‘if’. She scowled. “Any news on Loki?”

Thor scoffed. “He seems to be fond of Darcy, strangely.”

 “Loki isn’t fond of anyone but himself.” Jane found herself saying lifelessly. “He lacks compassion, a _conscience_.”

Thor frowned. “Not without reason. He has been through a lot, and to see him sat here, comforting a ‘mere mortal’ (as he would put it) whose realm was briefly crushed by his _own_ hand is strange. Besides, bizarrely, my mother is more than happy to play matchmaker, if the stories Sif told me were true.”

Jane scoffed at the idea of Frigga trying to get Loki to feel any kindness, never mind _love_ , towards someone. Especially toward Darcy. She thought of Darcy being involved with him and shuddered. “You believe he didn’t do this?         Why isn’t he back in his cell?”

“He is mischievous and cunning, but I believe he speaks the truth about this matter. After all, what would he seek to gain from this?”

“I just can’t believe him. He’d been out of prison the day before Darcy was poisoned. He even tried to kill you, his own _brother,_ twice.”

“My brother was foolish to attack me, but his actions against Midgard were unwise and uncalled for, it is true.”

“Did he say why he did it?” Jane’s voice was quiet as she looked at Darcy with continued concern.

“The attack on New York?” He asked.

Jane nodded.

“He gave us an excuse. My father did not believe him, but my mother fought to hear him out. I fear Loki’s actions have caused a rift between our parents that may never be repaired.”

“What was the excuse he gave?” Jane asked him freely. She knew he didn’t like to talk about his brother, and so the past two years involved Jane avoiding the ‘L’ word. Thor had noticed Jane skirted around the past events, and his brother. He was more than happy _not_ to talk about the complication of Loki whilst on Midgard with Jane.

Thor looked tired. “He speculated that the sceptre in his possession was a tool used by the Other himself to manipulate his free will.”

“So… Mind control?”

“Essentially.”

“Do you believe him?”

Thor took a while to answer. “I am still unclear. It is hard to tell with Loki.”

“You went to visit him in prison, right?” Jane raised her eyebrows. “In the times you returned here without me?”

“I did. On more than one occasion. I would have brought you here, but it would have been a dull and heartless affair. He didn’t look at me, and when he did his stare was dead, unresponsive as if he was still looking at the walls of his cell. He still holds a grudge against me for carrying out my father’s wishes.”

“You actually-physically- sewed his lips together? And then tortured him?” Jane asked incredulously. “And then you came home, to me, as if nothing happened?”

Thor sighed, feeling a weight on his shoulders that had nothing to do with his heavy armour. “You must understand. We Aesir don’t feel pain like humans do physically. We can get knocked around without a scratch. That is why his torture was mostly mentally applied, instead of purely physical. That’s why I had to do it. Emotionally, we are capable of anything. It was not the physical pain that led him to hate me as he does now, it was the sense of betrayal he felt when I stopped his voice, his lies.”

“ _He_ betrayed _you_ , Thor. And Asgard. And Midgard. And his family: everyone who ever loved him.”

“I know.” Thor paused, remembering the words his father spoke to him when he had been a younger and more foolish prince. _You’re unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed._ Since his father had forgiven Thor his misdemeanour, and taken back his words, he had set about repairing his brother’s attitude with the best intentions.

“I went to visit him afterwards, when his stitches remained and his mind healed. He could not talk, and I doubt he would have wanted to. I told him about you, about Midgard, about the wonders of simple human life. I told him stories about Eric and Darcy and Puerto Antiguo. He tried not to seem intrigued, but I saw him listening intently.”

Jane smiled sadly. “I’m glad he has a brother who cares about him unconditionally, but aren’t you getting tired of him, Thor? All those lies?”

“Tired?” Thor thought for a second. “Yes, tired. But I still believe he has a scrap of humility left in him, and that is worth fighting for, no matter how hard. After all, though not in blood, he is still my brother. He has done terrible things, but I grew up with him, played with him as children. Although I do not forgive him completely, I will still stand by him, if he needs a friend.”

Jane sighed, feeling like her new husband was too forgiving of Loki’s actions. There was a long silence before she asked quietly. “Do you think Darcy will ever wake up?”

Thor shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Jane’s, knowing that she knew the answer to that question already. “Jane,” he started off softly, and then stopped when he saw the tears cascading down her cheeks. He drew her into his chest, stroking her hair gently.

“She… She was so excited to see Asgard. But I shouldn’t have brought her here. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt her.” Jane sobbed into his clothes, pulling him closer to her. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

“It is not your fault, Jane.” He watched as she pulled away from him and regained her composure, taking Darcy’s hand once more.

\--

Loki opened the door to his chambers and knew something was amiss almost immediately. He didn’t need to see the man sat on his couch to know there was someone there.

“You.” Loki narrowed his eyes at his unexpected guest. “The blonde oaf. Forseti.” He barely remembered his face, though it was only two days ago when he had seen him last.

“Lo-ki.” Forseti dragged his name out playfully, like a song. He smiled and got up. It was not the smile he had seen Forseti bestow upon Darcy at the wedding, but a malicious, hate filled smile that surprised even Loki.

“Why are you here?” He asked. “Did you hear about Darcy? You need not be concerned –“

“Two days, Loki.” He cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I’ve waited here _two days_ in order to talk to you, but you… You never came back up here, too _concerned_ for the pathetic mortal who is barely clinging to her worthless life right now. I thought they had thrown you back in your cell.”

He laughed freely until his smile faded into a menacing stare. “You know exactly why I’m here, Laufeyson. ”

Suddenly, it was as if the puzzle pieces fit together perfectly, and Loki stepped forward, fury in his eyes.

“It was you. You poisoned Darcy.” Loki’s fingers tingled as he felt a surge of power jolt through him like electricity. He wanted to knock this man down, to wrap his fingers around his throat and throttle the life out of him. But he held himself back, determined to hear the story Forseti would no doubt tell.

Loki’s barely controlled anger allowed him one word, spat out from between his teeth. “Why?”

“Do I look like someone you were familiar with?” Forseti tilted his head with a sneer. “Wait.”

His face began to change, his nose elongating and eyebrows growing thicker. His skin, still tan and free of imperfections, grew taut about his face, clinging to his bones as if he had been famished. His eyes remained the same bright blue, and his hair golden and flowing, like Thor’s. His stubble was more pronounced, compared to his clean shaven imposter.

Loki stifled his gasp, his eyes widening. The resemblance was startling and he recognised him almost immediately. It had been hundreds of years and he’d almost forgotten. “Forseti… Baldrson. Mother thought you dead.” After his initial shock wore out, he managed a defeated smile. “So I’m guessing you’re here to procure some sort of childish revenge?”

“How _did_ you guess ‘Uncle’ Loki?” Forseti said sarcastically. “I know you have your share of enemies wishing revenge on you- I merely thought I would join them. I hardly knew my father when he was taken from me. Taken from me by _you._ ”

Loki rolled his eyes, his anger now under control, trying, for once, to talk reason. “It would make no difference for me to say now that I did not murder your father.”

“Liar!” He grabbed Loki’s neck and pushed him up against the wall, his long arms managing to lift Loki’s feet off the floor. “You are a murderer. You always have been.” Loki clutched at Forseti’s fingers, prying them off with apparent ease. He cried out when his hand began to freeze under Loki’s touch. He let go abruptly and stepped back as if nothing had happened, repairing his frostbitten fingertips calmly. Loki stepped forward, but Forseti didn’t even flinch at their proximity, still assessing his fingers.

“The Other and his decimated army send their regards,” he said coolly, threateningly. “As do the victims of your attempted genocide.”

“You’re associating with them? An unwise choice.” Loki said, his fists clenched.

Matter-of-factly, he said, “Well I’ve joined the, uh, _masses_ who want you dead. Including your own race, Laufeyson.”

“You formed a club?” Loki said sarcastically. “You’re as pathetic as the Avengers, though I underestimated them greatly, I admit.”

“As you did, Loki. And now you’re out of your cell, the fun can begin. Hunting season, as the Midgardians would say.”

“I should kill you for what you’ve done.” Loki spat, thinking of the comatose Darcy.

“As should I.”

“Why go after an innocent mortal? Are you a coward? Do you not want to bring the quarrel you have with me _to_ me?”

Forseti stepped back and sat back down on the couch, reclining at ease.

 “Oh, but I _have_ brought it to you, Laufeyson. You are under suspicion again and doubt is a dangerous thing, you know that. Who do you think watched and learned as Thor told you stories of Jane’s friend, and saw your ears prick up in interest? Who do you think led the mortal to your cell, making her _talk_ to you?” He exhaled, frustrated that Loki hadn’t figured it out yet. “Then, I had to just see how you looked at each other at my uncle’s wedding, and then crush you, as you crushed me.”

“So you relied on my… compassion?” Loki laughed. “A prick of the ears in a dank prison cell was my supposed _downfall_? Is that it?”

“You believe you aren’t capable of compassion, are you?” Forseti said, drumming his fingers on the leather sofa. “But you’re wrong. I could have easily disposed of Queen Frigga instead, but I’m not conspiring to murder my own Grandmother. Unlike you, I value my family, and we Aesir are so hard to kill. Oh, sorry. I forgot. You’re not Aesir, are you? And you’re not family. I believe I’ve found a loophole.”

At this, Loki’s jaw clenched together painfully, feeling the anger pull him toward Forseti with a stronger force. He couldn’t help it when he strode toward his nephew, his fist making contact with Forseti’s face with a satisfying smack. Forseti hardly moved or reacted, taken by surprise, a red mark now forming on his left cheek. Loki drew his fist back for another, and another, until Forseti’s hand came up to stop him, gripping his fist painfully tight. Forseti’s mask was back, only now it was marred by a bloody nose and a red mark that would likely turn into a bruise.

“Don’t you dare think about harming my mother.” Loki spat, drawing back as Forseti stood up and released his fist. He was nearly as tall as Loki- smaller by only a few centimetres. When he spoke, it was full of hatred that had been bottled up for hundreds of years.

“I just wanted you to feel what I felt the day you murdered my father, and the day my mother threw herself into the flames in anguish. And for that, the mortal will do. She _will_ die. And I, I will return for the grief-stricken Loki Laufeyson afterwards, and I assure you, I will not be alone.” He pushed past Loki and went to the exit. His last words before he shut the door behind him were ominous and filled with loathing.

 “This is what it feels like to lose something important you barely had a taste of.”

\--

Loki paced up and down his room. He found himself restless, which was uncommon. His monotonous life in his cell for the past few years had ensured he was desensitised to that. His need for physical movement had greatly declined. Still, the encounter with Baldr’s son had left him bottled up with rage.

 And he felt, for the first time in his life, useless. The damage was done, and it would be impossible to find Forseti now, even for him. He wasn’t allowed to leave Asgard, especially not to travel to Jotunheim or the unexplored realms, where he was likely to hide. Odin was not taking the matter seriously anyway. Only when human deaths happened in their hundreds, he would step in and create a fuss. For a mortal like Darcy Lewis, it was unlikely he would turn Asgard upside-down to find the would-be murderer (who would turn out to be his grandson if he looked hard enough). _No_ , Loki thought _, it would make Asgard look bad_. And it would be stupid of him to tell them the truth when he was under suspicion himself.

He should have killed Forseti whilst he had the chance. He should’ve felt the satisfaction of revenge, but he had let him go. Why? Along with his need for physical movement, he realised that the urge to kill his family members had drastically fallen in the past few years, too. He felt exhausted, worn out even by the thought of the repercussions. Besides, a mortal’s death was never seen to be worth the death of an Aesir, much less a royal. Maybe imprisonment, he thought, reflecting back to his own sentence.

Loki hadn’t murdered Forseti’s father. He had never fought it when the guilt was placed upon his shoulders, and bore the punishment that followed. But he _had_ felt responsible for his then-brother’s death. After all, in those days, he was a curious being, a bookworm obsessed with science and magic among other things. It had been _he_ that had innocently suggested to a friend that they had not tried the young mistletoe to kill the unkillable Baldr Odinson. Naturally, someone with less admirable motives had overheard, and decided to put it to the test. After the arrow pierced Baldr’s heart and ceased it beating, Loki’s friend had told his father of the words he had shared with the strange, outcast prince. It was enough to prove him guilty. They pointed their fingers at the black haired recluse easily, effortlessly.

Baldr had died, Frigga went into mourning, and Nanna, Baldr’s widow, had joined her husband in his funeral pyre. And his son had disappeared. No one had questioned it- it was the norm for the offspring of Gods to go their own way if their grief was too much.  

And so Forseti disappeared, and everyone forgot. Loki sighed in frustration, running a slender hand through his long hair. He should’ve known Forseti’s name from the moment he met him at the wedding, but his face was different, his voice changed, and he bore no resemblance to Baldr in any way, shape or form. Even his mother had not recognised her transformed Grandson at a glance. It was uncommon for Gods to have the same name, but not impossible. After all, the guests had come from realms on the furthest of branches. He hadn’t thought past the obvious. Why should he?

He had been jealous of Forseti at the wedding, he realised too late, and this had clouded his judgement. He could’ve easily seen the mask underneath, put his name into scrutiny, but instead he watched as Darcy was charmed and touched by this handsome man with seemingly no ‘red in his ledger’.

His absent thoughts led back to Darcy, who was, no doubt, drowning in a sea of Jane’s tears in the medical wing. Darcy Lewis had been caught in between his and Forseti’s quarrel; a victim of circumstance. Mortals were fragile. He knew this from past experience, but female mortals even more so (with an exception to a few, namely, the red haired assassin Romanoff). No wonder his brother had felt the need to protect Jane whilst she was still mortal. But she was Aesir now, no longer a mortal that could wither and die of old age… or poison.

Loki stopped his pacing and gasped softly. Of course.

\--

Idunn stared at the broken but beautiful prince with the black hair, whose green eyes were staring determinately into hers. Idunn was striking, a slender, graceful work of art with no imperfections. Her long golden hair, braided back in an elaborate plait, ruffled in the breeze that blew her long dress ghostly about her. He had transported here in an instant, leaving Idunn bewildered at his sudden arrival. They stood in an opening surrounded by tall fruit trees. In the distance, Loki could see the towering spires of Asgard through the branches. He liked the feel of grass beneath his feet, and the smell of the forest around him. It was nice to be outside his cell.

Idunn folded her arms gracefully. “I do not _owe_ you anything, Loki Laufeyson.”

“Then I should have left you with Thiazi.” He said lightly. “You mentioned repaying me.”

“What is it you require? Make it brief.” The golden woman asked, resignation colouring her tone.

“An Apple. A single Apple.”

 “Lady Darcy Lewis’ comatose state may not be changed by this.”

Loki didn’t ask how she knew why he needed it.

 “It is a possibility.” He admitted. “But I would like to try.”

“She may become Aesir.”

Loki paused. “Better than dead.”

“And so you think because I granted Lady Jane Foster an Apple, I will grant her friend one too?”

He looked at her with a tired seriousness, sick of her questions. “That is all I ask.”

Idunn looked amused and laughed musically. “Is this the moment you profess your fondness for mortal women?”

Loki scowled. “I preferred you as a nut. Will you grant me my request or am I to go away empty handed?”

“Everyone knows that, for an Apple, there is a price.” Idunn’s amused glance was met with an intense stare.

“Name it.”

 

 

**A/N- Okay, as I said, I went into Norse Mythology territory. Background reading! The facts (for those interested/ who haven’t/won’t/can’t be bothered to google it) are these:**

  * **Forseti is Baldr and Nanna’s son (Baldr being Frigga and Odin’s son)**
  * **Loki (in mythology) _did_ kill Baldr by shooting an arrow of mistletoe at him. Basically, Baldr had some weird prophetic dreams(involving him dying) that caused Frigga, his mother, to make a deal that made him unkillable. She had asked every object vow not to kill him, but didn’t make a deal with mistletoe (too young, unimportant to make a vow). So Loki gave an arrow of it to Baldr’s blind brother, who shot him, and Baldr died. **
    * **Note: I’m sticking to the whole ‘Loki is innocent’ thing in this story though!**



  * **Idunn is the goddess of youth, and ensures that everyone in Asgard stays pretty and young and tall and handsome and charming… oops. Anyway, she was taken by Loki (who was forced by a Jotuun, Thiazi) and everyone in Asgard started aging. So Loki, fixing his problems, flies in there as a falcon, turns her into a nut (Yeah, a nut. An actual nut nut.) and rescues her. So there was my explanation to Thiazi, and to the nut reference in the last bit!**



**So. Hope I got everything correct for you Norse Mythology buffs out there- most *cough* (all) my info came from Wikipedia. It’s pretty interesting!**


	9. Chapter 9

 

Loki walked back from Idunn’s orchard in deep contemplation, his fingers curled around the vial of apple juice in his hand. Idunn had kindly transformed it into a substance that Darcy could consume in her state and left instructions on how it should be administered. The walk back had taken him around two hours on foot, and the sun had barely gone down when he had left the orchard. He liked the time to himself. It had always been like that. He had read the books, done the theory, whilst his brother had preferred a more physical method. In the past, anyway.

The walk from Idunn’s was cathartic to say the least, and when he returned to the castle, he thought about confiding in his brother, maybe having a long talk to find some common ground between the two of them. The brother he had hated and left behind was an immature fool who had come back from Midgard wise and thoughtful. Maybe the change could trigger some sort of mutual interest between them. He wasn’t overly repulsive at his wedding, and Loki began to be indifferent to his brother’s presence.

He shook his thoughts away and made his way back to Darcy’s bedside. He crept in like a thief, not wanting to be seen or heard. It didn’t matter in the end, as Darcy’s bedside was empty. Jane must’ve gone to sleep- it was quite late and the castle corridors were mostly empty. He scowled at the thought of Jane not staying with her, especially since she was vulnerable. He took care as he filled a syringe with the liquid (his books on Midgardian medicine came in useful with dealing with these foreign objects in the end) and injected it, watching it flow through the clear tubes.

He did this three times, until the vial was drained. Silently, he leant over her, staring as if confused by her closed eyes and relaxed expression. It wasn’t the Darcy he had been told of, it wasn’t the Darcy he’d experienced here. She’d always been on edge, ready to argue with a snarky attitude.

He hesitated slightly before he gently brushed back her hair before planting a small, cautious kiss on her forehead. He drew back, looking around the empty hall as if someone was watching. When he saw no one, he resumed his post by her bedside and took her hand, fighting heavy eyelids through lack of sleep. Her soft skin was cold, unlike the warmth of life he had felt when he had danced with her, or slept beside her. She practically radiated heat and life, but this Darcy was strangely cold.

“I hope this will work, for both our sakes.” He mumbled under his breath, looking at her intently. Sat down beside her again, he waited.

**

Jane arrived in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep for longer than a few hours and found Loki at Darcy’s bedside. Again. She would have been annoyed if not for the fact he was fast asleep, his long fingers curled around Darcy’s. She looked at Loki again, feeling a flower of confusion and curiosity unfurl. He shared Darcy’s pillow, his slender body slumped sideways, his upper half curled up on Darcy’s bed. She felt uneasy as she walked up to him, seeing his childlike expression, relaxed, without a hint of malice.

Maybe this was what Thor saw in his brother when he defended him; the naive innocence he displayed when he was vulnerable. Still, Jane made her footsteps heavy and loud as she approached, finding this version of Loki unsettling and confusing.

He woke with a start when he heard her footsteps. Jane saw his fingers tighten against Darcy’s before he quickly let go and sat up. He looked at Darcy quickly with anticipation that slowly turned to a tired expression. Loki sighed. If she were to wake up, it would probably have happened by now. He wondered whether the deal would be void if it didn’t awaken Darcy. Suddenly he felt angry at Idunn, and wanted nothing but to be alone, not in the presence of Jane of all people. If Darcy was truly lost, it was not worth him investing emotionally any more. A waste of his seemingly finite resources, apparently. Plus, Forseti would get what he wanted: grief over a mortal’s passing and a set of suspicions to go with it. He thought it was about time he disconnected again.

“Lady Jane.” He said, reluctantly charming, straightening himself up in the chair beside Darcy’s bed.

“What are you doing here again?”

Loki glared at her. She was still rude, despite his best intention to stay pleasant. He didn’t blame her, if he was truly honest. Which he would never be. “Leaving.”

Jane scowled, finding nothing to say to him. She knew he wouldn’t answer anyway. She wanted to ask him what was going on with Darcy- why did he hang around her, even going so far as to hold her hand and act like he cared? Was it a guilty conscience? But she knew she’d never get straight answers, and Loki would just get angry and defensive, as always. Still, she found herself calling his name.

“Loki!”

Loki disappeared in a second, ignoring her shout.

“Great.” She sighed, looking at the back of the willowy figure leaving the room. She stared at the empty hall, and the door which had just closed behind Loki. With a resigned look, she sunk into the worn wooden chair by Darcy’s bedside that Loki had just vacated.

Outside the hospital wing, Loki found himself faced with a wall of Asgardian soldiers, poised to attack, their golden spears pointed at his throat. Though he knew exactly why they were there, he wanted to use his voice whilst he still could. A panic rose in him when he thought of his dark cell, but he swallowed it down, regaining his calm and collected self.

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice echoed down the hallway as he looked across at the bright rays of sun between the stone columns. He realised it would probably be a long time until he saw the sun again, and wished he had stayed at Darcy’s side a little longer.

The wall of soldiers parted, and a man he had never seen before stepped forward. He seemed unafraid under the menacing stare Loki was giving him. His voice didn’t falter.

“Loki Laufeyson. You are required to return to your prison cell by order of the King of Asgard and his High Council immediately. Any attempt to fight or escape will result in your death. Do you understand?”

“Laufeyson.” He scoffed quietly, a brief blanket of sadness covering his anger. He looked down at his crumpled clothing underneath golden armour, down at the stone beneath his feet. His sadness was gone in a second, and Loki met the gaze of the man before him with a dead stare. He knew he should ask for a trial, but after all he’d done in the past, he doubted he was entitled to one. Guilty until proven innocent in his case.

“I understand.” He said tiredly.

**

Thor strode into the hospital wing for the fifth time this week to find his wife asleep by Darcy’s side.

He noticed that Jane had barely slept in their new quarters, and when they talked, Jane’s voice was coloured with a constant sadness. She didn’t eat or drink as much as she used to (not that she needed to consume as much as she did). He sighed, striving to do something to make her happiness return again. He knew grief as well as the next person, and his thoughts flicked briefly to Loki and his silent journey to the dark cells below the castle, where he waited.

 He had just been to the Allfather to plead for Loki’s freedom alongside his mother’s pleas, and launch some sort of investigation into Darcy’s poisoning, but his father seemed preoccupied with ‘trouble in other realms’ that took priority. Thor loved his father dearly, but he couldn’t help feel a little confused at his lack of compassion toward the matter. But he usually found these thoughts led to sympathy for Loki, which he tucked away cautiously, knowing it was dangerous territory.

Brushing away thoughts of his brother and father, he looked down at Jane’s awkward sleeping position. Silently, he scooped Jane up effortlessly from the chair, feeling her stir in his arms. It was about time she slept in a real bed rather than hunching over a hospital bed, he thought. Jane eventually warmed to her place in his arms and brushed her cheek against the cold metal of his armour with what seemed like a happy sigh. He bowed his head, kissing the top of her head softly. His lips curved into a sad smile as he looked back at Darcy’s empty bedside.

“Forgive me Darcy.”

**

Darcy’s eyelids flickered open with a start. She was alone. Her eyes widened in panic when she felt the foreign tubes in her body, the IV in her arm. She screwed her eyes shut again, the bright light stinging painfully. But it felt familiar, the mattress beneath her, the warm breeze rustling her bed sheets, much like the desert wind of Puente Antiguo. Maybe she was back home, she thought with relief. She felt someone come to her side, the soft patter of frantic footsteps at her right.

“There’s no place like home,” she managed to mutter before she felt a dizziness overcome her. She felt warm hands on her skin, then nothing at all.


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter 10  **

Loki squinted at the dim light from outside, his hand coming up to shield his eyes. He sighed when he realised it was only a guard, timidly opening the door as if he were a dangerous dog ready to bite. He slouched in the corner like his prison was nothing, but these walls held two years of painful memories. Two years of having his brain scooped out and his memories put in a blender until they resembled coarse, black bile. Two years of psychological torture. Well, he thought grimly. Only one and a half. They had realised six months into his sentence that their physical methods were ineffective and they had gradually moved on to bigger, better things.

 He sat in a small puddle of his own blood, stripped of his armour, wearing a thin green tunic over an even thinner shirt. His feet lay bare and shoeless, his toes curled as if he could feel the cold. He scoffed at the thought. He was a frost giant, and the cold couldn’t touch him. But it didn’t stop him from feeling a sliver of hopelessness at his current condition, taken away from the goings on upstairs where he walked around more freely, but not entirely unshackled.

The guards had tortured him earlier, as he lay defenceless; admitting they had wanted him back in here just to vent their hate. The guards were usually as bad as the torturers, and so Loki eyed the man in his cell with trepidation, a silent cautiousness.

“You lied.” The guard said.

Loki sighed. So he was a talker, was he? “I am known to do that, yes.”

Loki rolled his eyes and looked down at the floor, noticing the fraying hemline of his tunic, the golden threads hanging loosely. He didn’t notice the change of the man’s voice to a higher feminine tone, or the shift from armoured Asgardian to slender female. Her long golden hair, braided, fell gracefully down her back as she looked down at the broken prince at her feet.

“You lied.” She repeated, waiting for him to look up at her.

Loki didn’t even bother moving. “Idunn.” He acknowledged her dully, still playing with the golden thread in his long fingers. “How nice of you to visit. You could’ve done without the theatrics, though. You have no audience here.”

“How nice of you to try and deceive me, Loki. Do you think I wouldn’t notice?” She scoffed as she finally met his eyes, only to see him look down again.

“I thought it would take longer, I admit.”

“I am used to your deception, Loki Odinson-“

“Friggason.” He cut her off, deciding his surname was the pressing matter here.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her anger under control. “It matters not what you call yourself. I thought it strange when you came to me, asking to exchange your lies for a mere mortal’s life. I was right to be suspicious, wasn’t I?”

Loki sighed. “Regardless, it did not work.”

“ _Regardless_ , the price still stands.” She leant close to his slouched form, her voice now a whisper. “Your lies. Or the mortal dies, this second.”

Loki stood up suddenly, Idunn shrinking back in surprise. His face was unreadable, but she saw his now-frail form tense, his body far from ease. A twinkle of panic in his eyes made her smile slightly.

 “Are you hard of hearing, Idunn? She hasn’t woken.”

“Do you want to gamble her life? Besides,” she paced up and down, “she _will_ awaken. Apples always work. And if you say no, I will be glad to end her life myself.”

He paused, thinking through the alternatives. He could wriggle his way out of this deal, but he had never been concerned for a mortal’s life before. Now that Darcy’s life was in the balance he was reluctant to even try to find a way out.

“If I have your word, my… my ‘lying tongue’ is yours.” He said it quietly, reluctantly, backed into a corner.

Idunn stopped her pacing and smiled, exhaling heavily. “ _Thank_ you. And if I find you’re hiding behind your magic again, I will find her and stop her heart without fail. I promise you that.”

“Wait.” He said. “What do you _benefit_ from this?”

Idunn looked at him like he had lost his mind. He wondered if he had. “I serve Asgard as much as the Allfather. You have caused enough pain, and yet you continue to scheme more. It is not every day you find Loki _Friggason_ in your debt.”

“Why not take my magic?” He could do more damage with his magic than he could with his lies, but he was confused why Idunn had picked the latter.

“Your magic cannot be given, like a sword or knife. It is like Thor’s Mjolnir- it is yours and yours only. It is your own mind, your _ability_. And it is learnt. If I took it away from you, nothing would stop you from learning again. Lying is different.”

Idunn stopped and sighed. “I will allow you one last lie, though. Your trickery in the Orchard has cost you another payment-“

Loki opened his mouth and began to protest, when she cut him off.

“Yes. You lied to me. And so you must lie to them. Tell them you poisoned the mortal, Loki. And I will ensure that will be your last and only lie.”

With that she disappeared, leaving Loki confused and hopelessly angry. He saw no exchange, but he could feel the weight lifted, akin to when Thor relieved him of Mjolnir’s pressure on his chest on the Rainbow Bridge. It wasn’t a nice relief, if he was honest. He felt lighter, but with that lightness came emptiness. What was his life without his lies and tricks to shield himself? His armour felt like it had been ripped off, and for a minute, Loki touched his lips, remembering the needle that had once pierced them, sewing them painfully together. He realised that this was the least painful method, at least, with the same goal. Why did they insist on taking his voice away?

No longer the God of Mischief and Lies, he sunk down in his now empty cell, landing in a heap with a thunk of his body against hard, cold stone. His voice echoed in the empty space.

“I feel cold.”

That definitely wasn’t a lie.

\----i----

Darcy awoke again to someone sobbing by her bedside. Happy sobbing, she noted, confused. Peeling her eyes open, she found her bedside had an audience including the likes of Jane, Thor, and Sif.  Even Frigga was sat beside her, frowning. A heavy stone rested on Darcy’s skin, the necklace that Sif had given her felt weighty around her neck. She squirmed under the covers, suddenly cold. She thought of home in her waking moment earlier, wishing she was back. But when she glanced around at her audience, she realised, with a disappointed pang that she was still in Asgard. God, she missed her room.

The tubes and wires that had surrounded her earlier had gone, and she felt a lot freer in her movements. Her first instinct was to sit up and face the crying Jane, who held on to her hand like a vice, squeezing her fingers.

“Ugh.” She groaned, her free hand going to her face, where she was sure she looked like death warmed up. She ran a hand through her greasy hair cautiously, feeling conscious of the eyes watching her intently. Jane stopped her sobbing, her smile stretched wide across her narrow face as she kept her tears under control.

She coughed, clearing her throat. “What happened?”

She saw Jane and Thor exchange a confused glance at her lack of seriousness. “We were going to ask you that.” Jane piped up. She broke the awkward silence that followed this, giving her friend a tight hug.

“Ugh, Jane, don’t hug me. I’m hideous.” Darcy pulled a face, but Jane just squeezed her tighter.

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I thought…” She looked at her with concern.

“I’d died? Me too. What even…?” Her cheeks blushed bright, burning red as she remembered the last moments before she’d blacked out. Those green eyes. Those lips. That voice. And oddly, that strange, hurt look on his face when she had pulled away from him. “Where’s…?” She stopped, silly questions filling her brain. Not here, not in front of Thor and the others. Darcy cleared her throat as if it would clear her mind. Jane didn’t even notice the blush.

“Someone poisoned you, Darce. We were back home, dropping my mom off, then Thor and I went to Vanaheimr, and a messenger said you were in Asgard, comatose.” Jane poured her a glass of water and handed it to her, watching her gulp it down.

“How long was I out?” She put the glass down on the side, empty.

“About two weeks.”

“Two? Wow. I knew I could sleep, but…” She shrugged as her voice became a mumble. “Hibernating.”

Jane managed a chuckle, and both were met with blank looks from the Asgardians at her bedside.

“So how am I awake if someone poisoned me? I presume you caught the bastard?” Darcy stretched, feeling her joints click and muscles stretch.

Frigga answered, her tone stiff and concerned. She glanced at the others. “May Lady Darcy and I have a moment, please?”

Thor looked at his mother with concern. “But mother…” He stopped and trailed off at her look, dragging Jane out, followed by a suspicious-looking Sif.

Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and suddenly she felt nervous, on edge. “What’s going on?”

 “Darcy.” Frigga took Darcy’s hand in hers. Darcy flinched at the strange contact from the Queen, and she wondered why she was even concerned about her. “I know this may be hard to hear, but I have consulted with the aides, and they are convinced you are no longer mortal. You are Aesir, woken by what I can only presume is an Apple we Asgardians are gifted at birth with. The poison in your veins was a human poison, harmless to Aesir.”

Darcy froze, her mind flooding with realisation, casting out the worry she had felt earlier. She was one of them now. She didn’t know whether she was meant to be angry or sad about this. Her head was full of too many questions. Apples? Aesir? Immortal?

She saw the discomfort in Frigga’s face when she squeezed her hand tightly, wordlessly, her long nails making red marks in Frigga’s otherwise flawless skin. There was a pause, a deafening silence, as she figured out what her mind wanted to say. Darcy-esque, she dropped Frigga’s hand and finally replied the way she always did: with humour. She began to laugh manically.

“Ha. That’s hilarious.” Darcy couldn’t stop herself laughing, even though she knew it wasn’t a joke. “ _Me_ , Aesir. Ha. Yeah, right.”

Frigga looked at her with worry and waited until the shaking of laughter became tears. She curled up, her knees drawn up to her chest under the covers. She held her head in her hands, and hid her face from Frigga. It wasn’t everyday Darcy had a mental breakdown in front of interdimensional royalty.

“Do the others know?” She found herself muttering, her voice muffled from beneath her hands.

Frigga shook her head, her graceful blonde curls shaking from side to side. “It is your choice to tell them, Darcy. That is why I asked them to leave. They believe you awoke from the workings of Asgardian skills.”

“Can we reverse it?” She asked hopefully, her head perking up as she pulled her blanket around her for comfort, like a small child.

Frigga looked at her, sympathy in her eyes.

“That’ll be a no then.” She laughed darkly. “This wasn’t meant to happen. I came for Jane’s wedding, then to go home again. I should’ve gone with Jane’s mom whilst I had the chance. But no, I had to stay didn’t I?” She found herself muttering under her breath. Frigga put a comforting hand on hers.

“Who gave me the… Apple-thing?” She asked, screwing up her face, trying to remember what had woken her.

“We are currently searching for the protector and keeper of the Orchard and the Apples within. She has taken… a leave of absence, as you may put it. When she returns, we will know.”

A long silence followed this as Darcy nodded, playing with the gem around her neck absentmindedly.

“At least I’m alive, right?” She said with a scoff, finding a silver lining. “What happens now?”

“You may go home, but your people may realise you do not age or die, so you may call Asgard your home if you so choose to. You are more than welcome here, Lady Darcy.” She smiled reassuringly.

Darcy didn’t even think before responding. “I want to go home. Don’t- don’t tell Jane about me, okay? Or the others.”

“Darcy-“ Frigga warned.

“-I know. I’ll… I’ll return here when my… my time is up, or whatever.”

Frigga nodded. “Your passage will be arranged accordingly.”

“Got it.” Darcy suddenly felt sick, as a sharp pain in her stomach rose up to her throat. Aesir couldn’t be sick could they? As Darcy leant over the side of her bed and lurched forward, she figured that they absolutely could.


	11. Chapter 11

Before Thor, Jane and Sif returned, Darcy cleaned herself up with the belongings brought to her, her shaking hands brushing through her knotted hair.

She took a shower in the medical bay, feeling a lot better despite the huge weight on her shoulders. Whilst the hot water soothed her, she tried her best not to break down completely, knowing that when she saw the others again, they would notice her red eyes and unhappy demeanour. Instead, she wondered idly where Loki had wandered off to. Had he not even given a damn about her and left her alone? Darcy took a deep breath and stepped out of the cascade of warm water and into the cold air.

 She towelled herself dry and got into her clothes, wishing she had just _one_ pair of jeans to wear and a scraggy t-shirt. She’d have to settle with a dress for now, until the Asgardians sent her home, which she hoped would be sooner rather than later. It was a childish thought, but she was dreading a lifetime here in posh dresses and golden jewellery, and the delay would be welcomed.

Stopping beside a golden framed mirror, she looked at herself for a long time. She hadn’t changed a bit. She’d thought that the change to Aesir might have cleared up her skin or made her look stunning, but she was still plain old Darcy Lewis, just without the glasses. She was thankful of her improved eyesight, but she felt lost without the comforting plastic resting on her nose. Stuffing them in her bag, she sighed and pulled a childish face at her reflection.

“Stupid.” She muttered at herself before walking away.

Darcy headed back to her bedside, where, thankfully, they’d stripped and replaced her yellowing sheets for crisp white ones. She sat down on the side of the bed, dumping her bag on it ungraciously, waiting for them to return. Frigga had gone to consult with her husband, who was arranging her passage back to Midgard. Thor, Jane and Sif had disappeared with the promise they would return after she had freshened up, but there were no signs of any of them.

She was close to having another breakdown as she looked up and down the empty hall, until something piqued her interest, and took her attention away from matters (although, she argued, it didn’t take much). On the side was a dark, heavy looking book, with strange looking runes down the spine. It was old and tattered, lying cover up on her side-table. She didn’t need the heartfelt tattered note inside to know whose it was. She read it with a sad smile, wondering vaguely what it was doing there.

_To my dearest son,_

_Take comfort in the knowledge that lies in these pages. I have taught you everything I know, and still you continue to learn and surpass my own skills. I am so proud of you._

Huh. It was hard imagining Loki as innocent, whose mother dearly doted on him. Frigga must have been _proud of him_ at one point. She had sat down with him, feeding him knowledge and magic, knowing he couldn’t possess what Thor had now. Knowing that he wasn’t her real son. She slammed the book shut, feeling a wave of emotion hit her as she saw Jane, Thor and Sif return, and smiled as best she could, swallowing down the feeling of homesickness and general tiredness that had accompanied her since she had woken up. She noticed Fandral following behind them, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

“You took your time.” She was about to make a quip about dying of old age, but stopped herself, knowing it would make _her_ emotional. “The showers here are awesome, I swear the water pressure-“

She paused as she saw Thor stride up to her, his face determined. She put the book down quickly, confusion in her features as Thor took her by the shoulders. His grip, she knew, was meant to be comforting, but it was too tight to be anything but a death-grip.

“Whoa. What’s up, big guy?”

“Darcy. I apologise, for what has happened here. You’re our guest, our friend… We shouldn’t have…” He looked pained, and Darcy stared at him with confusion, looking back at Jane, who wore the same expression. Sif just looked downright angry, and Fandral smirked.

“What? What do you mean?” Surely Frigga hadn’t broken their promise and told them about the Apple business?

“I am sorry, Darcy. It is Loki; he has confessed to your poisoning.”

“Loki?” She said in disbelief, standing up. “Bullshit…”

“I told you.” Fandral interjected proudly. “He was not to be trusted. He has safely returned to his cell, Lady Darcy, never fear.” He smiled charmingly at her, a smile which she did not return.

A dozen questions ran through her mind. How could he do this to her? She knew he wasn’t exactly ‘keep my darkest secrets’ material, but she felt like they were making some sort of progress in his indifference. She had been surprised to notice that maybe the God did have a heart, but now she was downright pissed off. She shook her head.

“It still doesn’t make any sense, Fandral.” Sif frowned, pushing past. “He came here _every day_ to sit by the mortal’s side. Whilst I was charged with regularly checking her status, I found him sleeping by her side for days. He only left when he was taken to his cell. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“A show, Sif. He –“ Fandral started to speak when Darcy butted in. She put her hand up.

“Hold up. Loki visited me?”

“A show.” Fandral insisted.

“But he admitted it!” Sif shouted, obviously torn and frustrated, just as Darcy was. Fandral took a moment of silence as he comprehended this. Darcy glanced at Thor, who had stayed silent, clutching Mjolnir in his huge hands. Darcy sighed.

“Where’s the Queen?” She asked, sick of their arguing.

“Likely arguing with the King,” Sif said hesitantly. “She wishes a full investigation, whereas the Allfather does not desire such a thing.”

“Why doesn’t he want an investigation? Is Queen Frigga arguing _that_ point? And her son’s?” Darcy finished her frustrated rant with a clearing of her throat, watching the expectant face around her. They were quiet until Thor spoke up hesitantly.

“She is trying to call off the torture.” Thor said quietly, twirling Mjolnir in his hands.

Darcy felt a stab of pain, as if someone had punched her in the gut. Loki had been tortured before, she tried to tell herself. For all of those people he murdered. But this time, she heard it confirmed by Thor, and worry made an uncomfortable home in her heart.

“Torture.” Her voice fell flat, and she saw Sif frown suspiciously at her tone.

She knew what she was about to do now would get in her in huge trouble, and would likely confuse most Asgardians (and herself).

Sif saw Darcy’s hand dash to the gem on her necklace, and drew her knife, slicing at the silver chain with frightful accuracy. Darcy flinched at the blade’s proximity to her neck, and leant back in time for Sif to miss the chain by millimetres. In turn, Darcy went to grab the handle of Sif’s blade, glinting against the Asgardian sunlight.

Her grip was tight, but Darcy managed to disarm her, clearly underestimating her in a non-battle environment. She saw the surprise in Sif’s face when she disappeared with her weapon, reappearing in a darkened cell. Sif must have thought she was still recovering from her temporary sleep (no, she wouldn’t admit to being in a _coma_ ) and underestimated her reflexes. In truth, she never felt better, despite her poisoning.

The last thing she saw was the surprised faces of Fandral, Thor and Jane, who’d all rushed forward and missed her by milliseconds. Sif looked furious.

“Ciao.” She muttered, sighing at the close call and thanking those community defence classes she’d taken in college. She stopped in the dark corner of the cell, wondering why the hell she was even here. He could’ve poisoned her. And yet she tried to push that to the back of her mind. She damned her abilities to see the best in people, and she didn’t even know what she saw in Loki. Damaged goods maybe? She gave up trying to find whatever it was.

She gripped Sif’s weapon in her hand tightly, the worn leather handle feeling foreign against her skin. She wished she had her taser instead. Her feet felt disgusting against the dirty stone floor, and she shivered, trying to ignore the nauseating mouldy stench of the place.

“I don’t want another conversation, Idunn.” She heard Loki mutter in his sarcastic tone. _Idunn?_  Darcy took a few steps forward, her eyes adjusting to the darkness and was about to answer when another voice beat her to it.

She stifled her gasp and stood as still as she could, undetected. Lucky it was so dark. Hiding in the shadows seemed too easy for her. Her eyes made out Loki’s form in the corner, slouched against the wall. But he wasn’t alone.

It was only then when he started talking. “If I were Idunn, I’d be offended. But I know you want to talk to me, Uncle Loki. There now seems to be a _gaping_ hole in your security by the way… You’re welcome, but I honestly wouldn’t use this opportunity to escape. Especially when you’re with me.”

“Baldrson.” Loki gave a name to the man stood beside him. She squinted in the darkness, seeing Loki stand up. She expected him to tower over Baldrson, but they were nearly equal in height. Darcy squinted through the darkness to make out something, anything. But he had his back to her, so all she could see was a tall, muscly man with golden hair. It could’ve been anyone. She shifted slightly, trying to get Loki’s attention, but it seemed fixed on this Baldrson man.

“Did you miss me, Loki?” His voice was low and menacing. Darcy felt a chill go through her. She flinched when she saw Baldrson’s fist make contact with Loki’s cheek, his fingers gripping his collar, stretching the already baggy material. Loki grunted softly before looking back at Baldrson, his fist pulled back again, poised to strike him. She knew she should probably transport and call for help, but her feet were planted firmly on the cold floor, frozen.

“I come with good news. Your mortal is awake. Buuut, she doesn’t seem mortal, does she? Do you want to tell me why or do I have to plant you in the middle of Jotunheim for my army of Frost Giants to tear you apart? Although,” he stopped and shrugged, “that may happen anyway.”

“No, I don’t wish to tell you.” Loki sneered, trying his hardest to be as cryptic as possible, through his reluctant but compulsory use of the truth. Forseti let another punch fly, striking him over and over until Loki struggled to breathe. “You may look like your father… but you are definitely not him… The brother…I knew was not …a petty imbecile-“

Forseti drew him closer, pulling the fabric tight about his neck.

“Don’t you dare talk about my father.” He exchanged his grip on his collar for a tighter one around his neck.“I should kill you right now, trickster. You don’t _deserve_ to breathe this air.”

Loki clawed at his fingers frantically, feeling lost without the use of his magic, which he was unable to use in his cell. He tried to pry the fingers from his neck, but his strength had all but left him. He hated the thought of dying here, in the petty clutches of Forseti Baldrson, being beaten to a pulp. It was not the dignified death he would have liked.

 He didn’t see Darcy until she sank the blade into Forseti’s shoulder. Forseti let go of him with a pained snarl, pulling the blade out and turning on Darcy, whose triumphant expression turned into one of terror as she recognised Loki’s attacker. He flitted back to his other mask for a split second, smiling whilst doing so. He looked insane.

“Y-you?”

Forseti smiled, and pushed her forcefully with his free hand, her back colliding with the wall. She let out a yell when her head smashed against the cold stone, leaving her dizzy and disorientated. She hoped that the guards would come running with her yell (although she later realised Forseti would’ve disposed of them). He looked at Sif’s blade in his hand and smiled menacingly, before throwing it away into the corner and advancing on her.

“The Midgardian. Great to see you again, Darcy. I see you’ve recognised me.” His charming smile became malicious as he snarled at her. “Ohh, you don’t deserve the air you breathe either. You’re as bad as each other. Well… Maybe not.” He looked at Loki, who was barely conscious, trying to claw his way toward them both. “I doubt you wage war on a constant basis, Darcy dearest.”

His hands gripped her neck with urgency, as they did with Loki. Struggling to breathe, she managed to lift her arm enough to squeeze as hard as she could on Forseti’s shoulder, where the knife had sunk into his skin. He cried out, as Loki mustered the strength to grab him from behind, pulling him away from Darcy. She fell to the floor in an instant, her fingers clawing at her sore neck, gasping for breath.

The heavy cell door crashed open. Darcy saw Sif burst in, knives at the ready. She seemed to take in what was happening quickly, and reacted in a flash. Her hand went to her waist, producing a small blade. Sif moved fast, but Forseti was quicker. With a snarl, he disappeared into thin air, the blade flying through where his head would’ve been. It fell to the floor with a clang.

Darcy caught her breath as Loki made his way over to her on his hands and knees. He examined the red finger marks on her throat with surprising tenderness and Darcy had to restrain herself as he half collapsed on her. She pushed him away, feeling the dead weight of him as his head rested on her shoulder.

“’M fine. Get away. Your hair is in my mouth. Eugh.” She pushed him off and got up, dusting herself off. He did the same, but with less enthusiasm and fluid movement.

“What are you doing here, Darcy?!” Loki shouted at her, hunched over and holding the wall for support. “You could’ve been killed!”

Sif was about to interject when Darcy huffed. Sif raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, watching the two bicker.

“Well, I just saved your skin. _You’re welcome._ Even though _apparently_ you tried to kill me. What the hell are you spouting?” She looked everywhere except his way, and was torn between accusing him or defending him. She suddenly felt tired, worn out by bothering to care. “Well?”

Instead of answering, Loki stared at her, jaw set, until Darcy felt Sif’s hand on her arm. Sif pulled her back gently. Darcy fought back though Sif’s hand stayed on her shoulder, determined to talk sense into Loki.

“I thought…” Darcy trailed off, not knowing what to say next. _That he had a heart?_

“You thought?” He spat. “You thought, what? That I _cared_? I try my hardest not to, it’s usually my downfall.”

“Oh, and attempting to kill everyone is better?” She shook herself out of Sif’s loose grip and clapped her hands sarcastically. “Yeah, sounds like a great plan.”

“How would you know?” He stared at her as he had once stared at his prey. Darcy swallowed, feeling threatened by this version of Loki. She tried not to appear scared, and set her shoulders.

“Because stabbing that Forseti dude _did not_ feel great.” She rolled her eyes. “As much as I love a good fight and a bit of taser-ing, killing and maiming is actually overrated. I have no idea what makes you feel great about it.”

“You think I kill people without purpose?”

“Oh, so it’s _purpose_ is it? What purpose? To be royal? To be King? You could just be content with what you have! Or had. Seeing as you’ve thrown it away. God, you should’ve known you had no chance, Loki. Why did you even bother?!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, his chest heaving under his tattered clothing. “You know nothing!”

Sif stood in the background, unsure whether to get between the argument, or go find help that had scattered around the castle, looking for Darcy’s whereabouts. She was dumbfounded. No one had talked to Loki like this before, other than Odin, and even then, their arguments were short lived, but frequent.

 “I could’ve helped.” She said in a low voice.

She got a scoff in return.

“I know you didn’t poison me.” She said, still not entirely believing the words she said. “It was him, wasn’t it? Forseti.”

He felt the most human he had ever done in a while. Despite her insults and choice words, he wanted to throw his arms around this strange woman and claim her completely, savagely. But what came out of his mouth weren’t words of love, or truth. They were manufactured lies. And he couldn’t stop it.

“You believe that?” Loki sneered. “Why? You’re an ant.”

“This is bullshit!” Darcy fought back tears. They weren’t of sadness, but of frustration. Part of her wanted to just leave him here, to leave Asgard and never think of this again. But then the other part wouldn’t let her forget him. She didn’t know why, but she knew something was wrong.

“I don’t know why, but you’re lying!” She screamed at him. “Why do you always lie?”

Loki blinked. He was no longer angry at her, or himself. He was surprised at her insistence. Her faith in him. Again, his kind words were pulverised into dirt.

“That’s what I do. I lie, and murder.” Loki looked at his nails nonchalantly, caked with dirt already. “Is that a shock to you?”

Sif decided that it was a good idea to get between them at this point, having been shocked into silence by their bickering.

“Darcy.”

“What?!” She shouted irritably, before her face softened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at _you_.”

“We should-“

“Leave?” She glanced toward Loki, meeting his eyes before looking back at Sif. “Yeah, we should. But I need to see the King. I need to see Odin and make this mess right again. I know what I saw.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Darcy!” Sif ran after her, tugging at her shoulder. “Darcy, I don’t think this is wise-“

Darcy ignored her and stood still outside the golden doors of what she presumed was the throne room, where Odin would be. She looked up in trepidation at the huge archway, towering above her. She swallowed down the anxious feeling and eyed up the guards beside the door.

“This is the one, right?”

Darcy didn’t wait for an answer, and, with a nod to the two guards stood at either side of the archway, the doors swung open, a grand arc of gold against harsh stone.

“It’s the mortal, Darcy Lewis, my King.” A guard announced her presence as she stormed in, Sif hot at her heels. She had ignored Sif’s constant warnings, and demanded a presence with the King. She tried to stop the snort escaping from her at the mention of ‘mortal Darcy Lewis’. She knew damn well what she was, and it definitely wasn’t mortal. Not after this mess of a place, anyway. She cringed at her childish curiosity of this place in the past, wishing that she had just stayed home, safe. But the spontaneous, brash Darcy had butted in and put her in the troubling place she was now.

“Who?”

“Queen Jane’s acquaintance.”

“Sorry, your Grace, she insisted upon-“ Sif tried to apologise, but Darcy cut her off. Sif frowned her way before backing off with a defeated scowl. Sif, for the first time in her life, was troubled by her allegiance to the throne. She knew that siding with Darcy Lewis was foolish, but let her push past her. _Let her speak, and face the consequences,_ she thought resignedly. 

“Um. Jane’s friend, actually. Acquaintance is a little… I don’t know… Just I thought living and working with someone for more than two years was a, you know, friendship.” Darcy trailed off, her confidence wavering when she realised she was waffling. She shook her head slightly, walking up to the King’s throne with her chin forced up and her back straight. She curtseyed at the end, and looked into the King’s bored stare. He fidgeted in his seat, and she saw the grip on his golden sceptre tighten.

“I thought Frigga was dealing with this.” His gravelly voice didn’t address her, but another guard stood beside him.

“King Odin.” She cut in rudely, and met Sif’s stare briefly. She looked furious and embarrassed, and so Darcy got down on one knee to appear more subservient, earning her a roll of the eyes from Sif. Jane should’ve been here, she thought happily, watching her manners and tact.

Darcy cleared her throat, hating the way her accent twanged in comparison to the elegant and eloquent Asgardian dialect. She attempted to be as un-Darcy as possible.

“I’ve found my poisoner. It’s not Loki- it’s For-“

“I know.” Odin sighed. “Heimdallr reported _his_ presence long ago.”

Darcy’s pretence dropped and she stood up, glaring furiously at the King.

“You knew all along?” Darcy’s jaw dropped open. “And you still punished your son for what he hadn’t done?!” She shouted, and felt Sif’s hand on her arm.

“There are more pressing matters.” He stated dully.

“Like what?” She sneered. “Like sitting here and _acting_ like a King? Doing nothing?!”

At this, Odin stood up briskly. His face was bright red, and for a second, Darcy couldn’t meet his eyes, feeling wary under his angry stare. She went to back away, but stood her ground defiantly.

“You think _one_ individual is important when we have other realms demanding war?!” He growled.

“I didn’t-“

“No, you didn’t know. You’re too smitten with that… _boy_ to even notice what is transpiring around us! You are but a guest of Asgard as of now and know nothing! If it were my decision I would deny you all access to this realm in the future.” His look answered all of Darcy’s questions about his knowledge of her immortality. She looked, panicked, behind her at Sif before realising that her secret wasn’t out, and that she’d taken his words differently. She let her anger drop briefly, a flash of hurt colouring her features. 

Odin calmed. “However… My wife seems to like you. But her loving nature is what shielded her son from reality.”

“So you’re going to let Loki take the fall for this? Are you going to even _try_ to stop him?”

“You should show some respect, Darcy Lewis. What is discussed in this room will stay here, and if you _dare_ speak a word against me, it will be classed as treason. Do you understand?” His last words were a roar, and Darcy did all she could to not cower backwards.

Instead, she was about to use some choice language when she felt her arms gripped by two guards.

“You should _earn_ respect.” She muttered as the guards dragged her away. One of them tore the necklace from her neck and together, they escorted her through the maze of corridors and threw her back into her former room. Loki’s room. She heard the lock of the door and the shuffle of guards outside, and sat down on the bed with a sigh.

“Fuck.” She swore, knowing that insulting the King was the last thing she intended. But as everything went in Darcy’s life, she expected no less.

\--

Jane visited later, and instead of looking concerned, she looked tired and angry. It reminded Darcy of the time she’d messed up some important results and Jane had to redo them. Since then, all of Darcy’s results had been perfect. She never wanted to mess with Jane’s science, or incur her wrath. The only difference was that this time, she looked even more disappointed.

“Sif told me what happened.” Jane said shortly, folding her arms. “With Loki. With _Odin._ ”

“Did Sif also tell you how much of an ass Thor’s dad is?” Darcy countered.

“No. Because people around here have respect for the _King_ , Darce. This guy has ruled Asgard for like, _forever_ , and you had the nerve to undermine him, of all things.”

“Would you say we were acquaintances?” Darcy asked, off topic.

Jane blinked. “I don’t think that’s-“

“No but really, acquaintances?”

Jane shook her head. “A bit… business-like. I’d say friends.”

Darcy jumped up. “Knew it!”

 “What? Wait. Doesn’t matter.” She knew not to question Darcy’s eccentricity. “What am I even supposed to do with you?”

“Nothing. It’s my problem.”

“No.” Jane looked at her with exasperation. “You’re my guest. The same guest that’s been mouthing off to the ruler of Asgard.”

“Tick that off my bucket list.” Darcy said smugly, fighting a smile.

“It’s not funny, Darce! I thought you were going to behave.”

“I know it’s not! And I have, until now!” Darcy got up off the bed and started pacing the room. “There’s something dodgy going on around here. That Heim-dude knew about Loki not poisoning me…” She thought for a second. “Odin’s grandkid? Forseti? He blatantly poisoned me, and they’re doing shit-all to even bother finding him. Probably because he’s you know, family. Can’t have _two_ kids messing up, can you?” She flung up her hands and rolled her eyes at Jane. “You know how close I’ve been to death since I got here? I _stabbed_ someone! I haven’t done that since I ‘accidentally’ scalpel-ed some guy in lab class for groping me!”

“Wait.” Jane frowned. “You said _Odin’s grandkid_?”

“Yeah! He called Loki ‘Uncle’ and everything.”

“You told Odin it was his grandson?”

“No!” She sighed furiously. “He didn’t let me get that far. I… lost my temper. He knew though. Heim-dude told him and I think they’re just letting him off the hook because he’s family. And Loki isn’t technically- you know, the whole adopted thing- so no one gives a shit about-”

Jane bit her lip and stopped Darcy from pacing.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, and we could’ve gone together?”

“Sif was with me. Well…” Darcy shrugged. “Following. I didn’t want to drag you into this shit.”

Darcy took a seat and put her head in her hands. “Damn it, Jane. How are you gonna live here for the rest of your life? How could you put up with _that_?”

Jane looked at Darcy, hard.

“You think I’ve given anything up to be with Thor, here because I feel like it? Because I _like it here?_ ” Darcy opened her mouth to retort but Jane stopped her. “I… I will outlive my mom, Darcy, and all the people I care about. And my career- all gone. It took a lot of thinking about.”

“Then why would you throw it all away like that?!” Darcy shouted at her, and stood up. She flinched at Jane’s words, and subconsciously catalogued them under ‘Immortal-problems-I-won’t-deal-with-right-now’. She wanted to scream at Jane, to tell her that they were both in the same boat, but couldn’t quite bring herself to say it. It wasn’t the right time.

“You know why, Darce.” Jane was calm. “I love him.”

“You could love someone else.” Darcy suggested half-heartedly.

“Love isn’t something you can turn on and off, like a tap.” Jane rested her hand upon Darcy’s shaking ones. “Besides. You should be thankful you’re okay. I hear you really got into a scrap with Loki.”

“We did not _scrap._ We talked. Heatedly. And physically, yeah, I’m super, Jane.” Darcy sighed. “But I’m not fine. I miss my TV, the internet. I miss going to the store to buy groceries. I even miss the creepy old dude who stands outside the 7-11. And now, I just want to go home…”

“I can go to Odin.” Jane reasoned calmly. “Talk some sense into him.”

“Good luck with that.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “If he doesn’t get it when I shout at him, he’s not going to get it when you ask him nicely. No wonder Loki hates him so much.”

“Are you trying to say that you see Loki’s point?” Jane scoffed. “That’s pretty rich, considering he’s a murderer.”

Darcy sighed. “It’s not that. It’s… It’s like I’ve seen first-hand what he’s like, and he’s bitter as fuck. And torture? That’s some weird-medieval shit there. Nobody deserves that. I wouldn’t even wish it on my poisoner.”

“Darce. Stop defending him. We’ll just go round in circles, like we always do when we argue.”

“Meaning I always win?”

“No, you don’t!”

“Do so.”

Jane took a calming breath. “How about I get Heimdallr to transport you back to New Mexico soon?”

“Fine.” Darcy pouted like a small child, but inside she wanted to shout. Maybe have another argument with Odin to make her feel better. But the promise of an escape of this madness got her thinking about home. It was tempting. “But I’m not leaving until Loki is out of his cell and acquitted.”

Jane sat down with a barely concealed look of exasperation. “Darce…”

“No, Jane. He didn’t do anything. Not this time, anyway.”

“Then why did he confess?!”

“He’s just playing a role, saying that he poisoned me. I swear. It doesn’t make sense. He’s an idiot who thinks everyone is against him.”

“Because it’s true.”

“They… they must have some dirt on him or something.” Darcy sighed heavily. “Just… please.”

Jane blinked at Darcy’s sincerity, and got up off of the bed. She was over by the door when she turned to speak to her. “I’ll try. Get some sleep.”

She shut the door behind her with a bang, and Darcy flopped down on the bed, feeling tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away, rolling herself into a duvet burrito.

“Hey. Heimdude. I know you can hear me. I’m pissed at you.”

She sighed heavily, knowing that Heimdallr wouldn’t necessarily be watching her right now – how did he do it? She tried to rid the background noise in her head, the constant buzzing that annoyed her beyond belief.

So what if Loki confessed and was now in a cell? It wasn’t her problem. But it felt like it. And Odin, letting Forseti off the hook? Politics here were as bad as the ones at home. And she thought that maybe Asgard would have a better system here. Obviously not. No police, no government. Everybody under the crown’s _protection_. Darcy knew from her history books why that wasn’t a great idea- one supreme ruler? Didn’t work on Midgard, didn’t work here, either.

It was medieval.

\---x---

_“You think one individual is important when we have other realms demanding war?!”_

She blinked, sitting up from her half-slumber. “Shit. He’s going to start a war.”

She remembered back to Forseti’s threat. _“Do I have to plant you in the middle of Jotunheim for my army of Frost Giants to tear you apart?”_

She leapt up and hammered on the door with urgency. It didn’t open, so she made do with shouting to the guard at the other side.

“I need to speak with someone. Anyone! Please?” She hammered again, and heard no response. “I have information. I swear!”

The door opened inwardly, knocking her over. The guards looked down at her in annoyance.

“Finally!” She huffed. She went to prop herself up, but found no strength in her arms to do so. The next few seconds were a blur, as her body became limp and her eyesight failed. She tried to reach out, but felt paralysed, only partly conscious she was rolling around on the floor muttering gibberish.

“What are you…?” She managed to mutter.

“It’s about time you returned home, Midgardian.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Brother.” Loki peered up to see his brother’s muscly form stood at the doorway of his cell. “I hardly think you’re here to _visit_ me, are you?”

Thor swallowed visibly and sighed, getting to the point quickly. “Loki, in light of recent events, father has agreed to free you from your cell.”

 “Hm.” Loki found nothing to say to his brother, and let him stand in silence at his door for a moment. Thor shifted his weight almost nervously and walked into the clammy darkness of the chamber.

“You’re free.”

“So Heimdallr can watch over every move I make? And tell Odin everything?”

“What did you expect?” Thor knelt down next to him, and handed him a thick cloak. Loki scowled at it before obliging, and putting it around his shoulders. The warmth was comforting, as much as he hated to admit it to himself.

“Nothing less.” Loki admitted, ignoring his brother’s outstretched hand and propping himself up on the wall. “Will this be a regular occurrence every time something vaguely suspicious happens?”

“I know what you did. Or didn’t do. They found Idunn.”

“And?” Loki looked up at his brother bitterly.

“And she was close to death. You’ll tell us why when she lifts whatever enchantment she’s put you under.”

“Who says I’m under an enchantment, _brother?_ ”

Thor just looked at Loki tiredly, and walked away, leaving the cell door open. Loki followed the red cape in the darkness, tugging his cloak around himself like a small child.

“No more tricks.” Thor said quietly as they walked through the cold, narrow maze of corridors and stairs.

“I wasn’t planning on it, brother.” Loki swallowed down the feeling of discomfort when the truth slipped from his lips. And he knew he meant it. For the time being.

* * *

 

Darcy woke up in a grander room than her own.  Despite the malicious words promising a return to Midgard, she found herself upon Asgardian silks, instantly recognisable by its superiority over Midgardian material. The view out of the window, left wide open, was unmistakably Asgardian. She frowned, sick of waking up in foreign places, confused and disorientated.

“Darcy.”

Queen Frigga’s voice was calm and soft. She walked over to the bed where Darcy lay on top of the sheets. Darcy sat up, wrapping her arms around herself nervously. She swayed dizzily, narrowing her eyes to stop the room from spinning.

 “Why am I still here?” Darcy hated the whine in her tone. “I thought you were sending me back.”

“Some ‘Asgardian’ guards are seemingly not to be trusted.”  She smoothed the golden silk of her dress, not making eye contact with Darcy. “They tried to slip you out of Asgard- only Heimdallr halted them.”

“’They?’” Darcy knew the answer, only wanted Frigga to say it out loud. Instead of giving her an answer, Frigga looked at her, hard.

 “My husband can be a stubborn man. And as you have guessed, our children share the same traits. Some more than others.”

At this, her cheek lifted in a half smile which disappeared with a sigh.

 “I’m sorry.” Frigga continued. Her voice was frank, and she looked down at her with what Darcy thought was pity.  “I knew. But it didn’t make sense. Forseti- my own grandchild- presumed missing and… dead… had no reason to come here. I chose not to believe it, and my ignorance cost Loki his freedom. And nearly cost you your life. It was Forseti’s men that endeavoured to kidnap you.”

“I guessed. But… You knew too?” Darcy said in a low voice, scowling heavily. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Only when Heimdallr confirmed it did I start to petition for Loki’s release. You must understand, Darcy, that I thought Forseti had disappeared. Gone, forever. You do not know the story of my son, Baldr, do you?”

“No.”

Queen Frigga took a deep breath and began to explain everything to Darcy. The mistletoe arrow, the accusations against Loki, the death of her son, the flight of her grandchild.

“…And when my son’s wife threw herself into the pyre, I knew that we could never speak of this again. And so I didn’t. I kept this deep in my heart, and prayed for my grandchild to return. But when he returned, I was ignorant to the change of his character. He will not be like Loki, who has had constant support throughout his mistakes. He is guided by greed, by revenge. I wish not to lose both Loki and Forseti in this fight.”

 “Forseti says he’ll start a war.” Darcy said after a long time. “Well, he said he had Frost Giants in Yo-tum-something…”

“Jotenheim. It is Loki’s place of birth.” She nodded. “It is understandable. The Frost Giants have harboured a long standing feud against Asgardians, worsened by Loki’s actions. He so nearly decimated an entire race to prove himself to his father. No amount of gold, aide or knowledge we send to their realm will ease the pain they suffered. And so they hate us. With reason.”

She shook her head, and reached out to touch Darcy’s cheek softly. Darcy cringed away from her, unable to process her apology. She knew she should forgive Frigga, but she felt like she was as bad as Odin had been. Denying it was Forseti? Sounded stupid to her.

Frigga looked up and finally looked at Darcy with a sad smile. “I know it may be hard to forgive me. I have brought you a… gift.”

And without a word, Frigga stood up and pulled open the heavy wooden door with ease.

 _A gift? For her to be alone again? Great one,_ she thought bitterly. Her thoughts continued to run like a constant stream of cynicism, when the door opened again, revealing a timid Loki at the other side. Frigga smiled at her before disappearing behind the door, her shoes clicking down the corridor.

“Yo.” She said nonchalantly, swallowing down her surprise.

“Yo.” He repeated back to her, with a confused look on his face.

“Means ‘hello’.” She explained.

“I’m not familiar with Midgardian slang.”

“I know. Sorry.”

It was silent, until Darcy swung her legs over the bed and walked to the window, shutting out the breeze.

“I didn’t poison you. I regret shouting at you in my cell. I apologise.” Loki said quietly. His expression seemed unusually full of anger when she looked back at him over her shoulder. She turned again, staring out of the window over the Asgardian city, not quite taking all of in the glittering utopia.

 “You didn’t poison me then?”

“No.” He missed the sarcasm in her voice.

“Why the change in heart?”

Loki pursed his lips in silence, both hands behind his back. “Idunn contracted me your life in exchange for my lies. Only, the last lie I was permitted was to falsely admit Forseti’s actions.”

“Why are you saying this now?”

Loki wandered around the room, randomly picking up ornaments and surveying them with false interest. He spoke too casually for Darcy’s liking. “Because she was under the threat of Forseti. Asgard has recovered her, and she has removed the contract.”

“And my life?” Darcy asked quietly.

“You can keep your life. Consider it a gift.” Loki strode across the room and stood behind her as she looked out into Asgard. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace. They stood there for some time, staring out of the window into the sunlight.

“I won’t say thank you for saving my life you know, seeing as you were the reason I was targeted.” She chuckled under her breath. “I did think for a second there that you were going to kill me or something.”

“Really?” His arms loosened around her, and she found herself grabbing them and pulling them back around her body.

“No, stupid. I was joking.”

“I’ve never been called stupid before. Mischievous, evil and monster are often the words used to describe me.” Loki sounded genuinely puzzled until he sighed, changing topics.

“Forseti read all my moves.” Loki felt Darcy lean back into him. “He knew I’d go to Idunn to save your life. He knew Odin would throw me into a cell.”

“He does have the upper hand, I guess.” Darcy frowned. “At least you’re free now.”

“He didn’t expect Idunn to escape.”

“We would’ve figured it out without her. _I_ would’ve anyway.” Darcy turned around in Loki’s arms and looked up at him. “I may regret this, but I _think_ I can trust you.”

“Not exactly a wise choice.” He smirked.

Darcy shrugged. “I don’t make good choices. Not usually.”

He leant forward, until their noses touched. “I can’t- and won’t- tell you what to do.”

Darcy felt his hesitant hand caress her cheek, and steadily trail down her neck, until his steady fingers brushed her breasts. She stepped forward, pulling him closer with the same cautiousness she had with the first boy she’d ever kissed. She stood on tiptoe as she pressed her lips to his, a chaste and innocent brush of lips. At first.

“You better not.” Darcy warned, before taking his face in her hands again and bringing him down to her lips with more force.

It was over in a flash- Darcy’s determination to stay away from him. Her restraint waivered and disappeared as he bent down to consume her. He pressed his lips hungrily against hers, pulling her body closer to his with a tight embrace. Her breasts rubbed satisfyingly against his chest, both their hands exploring, searching. His fingers finally found a place curled around her waist, digging into her skin with a pain she didn’t even register. Her hands reached upwards to run his long black hair through shaking fingers. She gasped when they finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily with foreheads pressed together, looking into each other’s eyes with a passionate intensity.

Darcy didn’t even notice her state of undress until she was backed up against the wall, her bare back grazing against the hard stone where Loki had rucked up her top.

“Woah, there cowboy.” She pulled her top down, grinning.

“Sorry.” He took a step back. “I got…”

“… Carried away. I know.” She laughed, pulling him back toward her. “Me too. I hope Frigga isn’t waiting outside the door.”

“I highly doubt it. It’s not in my mother’s nature to pry.”

Part of Darcy wanted to carry on with what they had started but she realised with a pang she had already gone too far. With Loki. The man who’d wrecked New York had saved her life in return for what he prized most; his lies. The same man who’d tried to kill his brother had kissed her with passion she hadn’t realised he’d ever had. It was far too intense, and she found herself questioning, _why me?_

“Why you?” Loki looked at her confused as Darcy clapped her hands over her mouth, realising she had said it out loud. She lowered her hands and frowned, deciding to go for it.

“Yeah. Why me? Why not some Asgardian… Some Aesir woman?”

“You are Aesir.”

Darcy tilted her head at him. She was still backed up against the stone, Loki’s body pressed up against hers. “Thanks to you. Answer the question.”

“Why should I? You’ll always believe that I’m a manipulative, God of Mischief anyway. There’s no way you can fix that. Or me.”

Darcy pushed him away instantly and shook her head.

 “You’re not my ‘sixty minute makeover’ deal. I’m not here to fix you and move on to repair another broken, dilapidated mess. I want you to learn to fix yourself, so when I’m not here, you don’t go batshit and pull another New York.”

“Sixty-minute makeover?” Loki ignored the phrase ‘when I’m not here’, dismissing it completely.

“It’s a show where they pimp houses up. I think you’re missing the important point here.”

He sighed, resigned. “Fine. Do you want the truth? I… I talked to you because it felt like I should. Ever since Thor mentioned your name…”

“He mentioned me?”

“Among other things. He came to my cell after he… sewed me up, and he told me stupid tales like how he eats Midgardian ‘tarts’ and how he and Jane communicate with others. Then he mentioned you, and I couldn’t help but take interest. You sounded… intriguing. And when you turned up in my cell, I thought Thor had put you there for my rehabilitation. That, or it was another trick to torture me.”

Darcy tried to appear light-hearted. But her heart was anything but light. “Intriguing? Although I do agree, tell me more.”

“There was a… a ball game?” Darcy nodded, signalling him to continue. “That Thor attended with you and Jane. He noted some of your… eccentricities.”

Darcy tried to keep a straight face, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Just stories.” He tried to wave it off.

“Tell me.”

Loki sighed and stepped back, sitting on the corner of the bed. “He said you punched a man for laying a hand on you. Thor stated he would have come to your rescue, but you had no need of his services.”

“Really? That one?” Darcy said, outraged. “Out of all the stories, he told you _that one?_ What about the ones where I’m ladylike and things?”

“I never heard those.” Loki’s tone was teasing and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, there was…” Darcy searched her memory for a time when she wasn’t acting stupidly sure of herself, or just downright stupid. “The wedding!”

She jumped up in the air and Loki looked alarmed.

“I was on my best behaviour at the wedding.” She pointed at him.

“You were inebriated.”

“And then poisoned.” Darcy countered.

“And now we’re here.”

“Where is _here_?” Darcy wondered where this whole Loki thing was going. Was _she_ even in it for the long haul? She didn’t really want to think about it.

“East wing of the palace. Fifteen floors up.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “You know what I mean.”

Loki stood up. “ _Here_ is in the calm before the storm. Forseti will attack eventually and we need to be ready.”

“ _So_ dramatic.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

When Loki looked at her puzzled, she sighed and gave up. “Eugh. Fine- doesn’t matter. Let’s go find the others, shall we?”

Loki watched her as she shut the door on him, leaving him standing in the room by himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Idunn looked up at Loki from her place on the chaise-longue. She lay on the plush velvet, her head propped up with a few cushions, her blonde curls no longer in her braid, spilling freely over the side. Loki couldn’t help notice how the long white dress she wore didn’t quite cover the bruises and burns still fading on her arms and bare legs. He drew his gaze away from her injuries and looked into her brown eyes, framed by thick lashes.

“Why?” He asked, getting straight to the point. He’d left Darcy, who was heading to a feast to meet Jane. He swallowed down the emptiness he felt- he was never welcome there, no matter how much Darcy insisted.

“A pleasure to see you too, Laufeyson.”

He ignored the quip. “What gave Forseti Baldrson such power over you?”

“Why would you like to know? So you can procure the same power?”

“After all you’ve seen me do, you think I still desire _power_?”

Idunn propped herself up with barely suppressed pain colouring her features. “Individuals like you always desire power.”

Loki folded his arms, his voice twisting with malice. “Tell me what you told the council. You owe me that. I tried to save an innocent woman’s life and was imprisoned for it. Thanks to ‘your’ conditions.”

Idunn saw the fire in Loki’s eyes, though his anger didn’t bother her. For some reason, it never did. He could threaten her life and still, she would be as cool and collected as usual. She found herself unafraid by Loki, no matter what he did. Still, she rested her head on the pillows once again, sighing heavily and closing her eyes. She felt tired.

“Forseti knew _everything_. He knew you’d strive to avoid the price of the Apple, and told me to go collect the debt. He told me everything I needed to know to crush you, Loki, all your tricks and schemes. And all he held over my head was the promise that he would target my orchard and decimate the Aesir with his army.”

“Army?” Loki’s interest was piqued, remembering Forseti’s words in his cell. “Of…”

“… Jotunns, yes.” Idunn opened her eyes, looking tired.

“Meaning he will be commanding from Jotunheim.”

“I presume so, yes.” Idunn looked at him.

“You said you wanted me in your debt. You said you served Asgard.”

“I don’t regret what I did.” Idunn said lightly. “All you had to do was die in order to ensure Asgard’s safety.”

“Maybe I should go and give myself up then.” He sneered, hiding the feeling of sense in his words. “Do you know what you did?! What you put me through?!”

“Of course.”

Loki took a deep breath to calm himself. How could she be so blasé about all of this? “Do you know anything about Forseti, other than what you have told the council?”

“… I know your mortal isn’t safe-“

“She’s not mortal-“

“- and that Forseti has planned his moves _way_ ahead of you.”

“How far ahead?”

“Further. He only wanted your imprisonment to delay your meddling. He is building his armies and planning to march on Asgard. He plans to dirty your name and punish his family for the fault of forgiving you.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “That, I guessed.”

“If you have nothing more to say, I suggest you leave. It is interfering with my healing.”

Loki turned immediately toward the exit, pausing only when he heard Idunn’s voice behind her.

“There has to be a certain desperation when someone like you comes to bargain for a mortal’s life. Forseti knew this.”

His footsteps continued, his voice silent as he stepped out of her quarters, pondering _his_ next move.

-O-O-O-O-O-

The feast that night was, to say the least, awkward. It was set in a smaller hall than usual, but still as grand. The lights on the walls glowed as if lit by candles, but on closer inspection, Darcy saw they were more like glowing glass orbs, casting eerily beautiful shadows around them. It was the little things that amazed her about this place; the magic, the knowledge and… otherworldliness of it all. She held her head high and walked in, sitting herself next to Jane, ignoring the looks thrown her way.

She wore a silk floor length dress, not unlike the one she wore at the wedding. It was her attempt at looking Asgardian, a silent admittance to herself that one day she would be stuck here forever. Honestly, she thought she looked great in it, but preferred the comfortableness of jumpers and jeans. The dark indigo blue colour brought out the colour of her eyes, whilst the corset with golden metal elaborations drew attention to the gentle curve of her hips and breasts. Her feet killed, but the incredulous look Jane gave her, and the double takes everyone else gave her were worth the pain. She was known as the strange girl who was once comatose and wore trainers in the presence of Gods, and now she strutted in in full ‘Asgardian uniform’.

“Hey.” Darcy shuffled herself in casually, picking up a knife and fork and shovelling food onto a plate from the platters in the middle of the table. “I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so’, but I _did_ tell you so.”

She stopped shovelling food enough to glance around to Jane and smile angelically.

“Idunn, huh?”

Darcy’s smile faded, her cutlery falling to the table with a clink. “Jane I-“

“Come on.” Jane gently pulled her up, and they exited the hall, only stopping when they’d reached a beautiful balcony looking out onto a stunning sunset-lit Asgard. Darcy walked to the edge, resting her elbows on the stone wall, playing with the wine glass she had taken from the dining hall. She ignored what was on the other side of the wall; the perilous drop downwards that made her stomach unsettled and her head dizzy. Jane walked up to her side and turned her gaze onto Asgard, too.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Darcy mumbled.

“How you woke up. I’m not angry, I’m just…” Jane sighed. “I hate it when you keep secrets, Darce.”

“Did Frig- I mean _Queen_ Frigga- tell you?”  Darcy couldn’t help irritation seeping into her tone.

“I was at Idunn’s council meeting. She told everyone you were… Aesir. The Queen couldn’t do anything about it. It was just… evidence.”

“I was going to tell you later, Jane, I swear. I just… Don’t want to deal with it now.”

Jane pulled her into a warm hug, and Darcy burrowed her face in the crook of her neck, returning it gladly.

“You can talk to me, Darce. I’ll always listen.”

Darcy choked back a sob. She didn’t usually cry, but Jane’s genuine words made her eyes well up and a lump in her throat appear.

“Thanks.” Darcy smiled and pulled away from her friend, resting on the wall again. She picked up the wine glass balancing precariously on the wall and took a sip. “I promise I’ll let you know next time I wake up from a coma with a magic apple thing, wielded by a God who tried wrecking New York-”

“-I assume Loki is out of prison, then?” Jane raised her eyebrows.

“You assume correctly.” Darcy couldn’t look her in the eyes, and instead looked to the bottom of her goblet, swirling the red liquid inside.

“You talked? That Idunn woman said he’d saved your life.”

“Uh yeah.” Darcy decided to omit the whole part where they’d basically jumped each other.

“It’s so lucky Heimdallr stopped the guards trying to smuggle you out. The guards are under suspicion as it is.” She put a comforting hand on Darcy’s arm and smiled.

“You know me. I’m used to being attacked here by now.” Darcy shrugged, putting her goblet down. “So, uh, how come you weren’t eating with Thor at dinner?” She tried to change the topic.

“We’re fighting. It’s nothing.” Jane rolled her eyes, not wanting to admit that Odin’s behaviour had put a toll on their relationship, with Thor taking his father’s side most of the time, yet arguing for Loki’s release. “Plus I wanted to talk to you.”

“Right. Those honeymoon blues.” Darcy nodded absentmindedly. There was a moment of silence before Jane spoke again, so quietly Darcy had to strain to hear her.

 “Darcy. A word of advice. Don’t do what you’re thinking about doing.”

“What do you think I’m going to do _Jane_?” Darcy whispered back angrily, trying not to make a scene in case anyone was listening. She looked at Jane, suddenly furious. She knew exactly what she was about to say, yet carried on feigning ignorance. “What?”

“I can’t stop you doing anything, Darce, but whatever you’ve got going on with Loki, _I advise_ you to just… stop it.”

“Sorry?” She tried to appear oblivious.

Jane’s words were carefully weighed before she said them, a hesitance in her tone.

“Idunn said that you were targeted by Forseti because of Loki. You never said that. You made out like it was a …coincidence, a misunderstanding. I didn’t know it was because you’re… affiliated with Loki. Doesn’t it make sense just to leave this all behind and go home for a little while? Erik will take care of you. I can even talk Stark and Banner into looking after you if you’re scared that Forseti will come after you again. Just while the dust settles, and then you can come back and forget about this.”

“I don’t want to be babysat.” Darcy clenched her teeth in frustration. “And I don’t want to forget.”

 “Please Darce… It’s just… When you started to defend him, I got scared that-“

“What? That I’d screw him?”

“Darcy.” She warned. “He saved your life, I know. Doesn’t mean he’s a good person. Be careful.”

“I know he isn’t!” Darcy growled in frustration and threw her arms up, downing her wine. She wanted to tell Jane everything that Loki had told her. He wasn’t using her- it was Thor’s fault he’d even _heard_ of her. Besides, what would he use her for? She wasn’t of any use to Loki anyway- the only useful thing she’d done for him was stab Forseti.

“You don’t have to be his friend out of pity.”

“Too late for that. He and I were involved even before I was poisoned!”

“-Involved?-”

“-I’m sick of trying to _justify_ this Loki thing to you.” Darcy said, exasperated.

“There _is_ a ‘Loki thing’ though. And I’m not trying to make you justify it.”

“Sounds a lot like you are.” Darcy muttered under her breath.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Am not!” Jane’s anger dissipated into the realisation that Darcy had got her into a childish fight of ‘yes you are’ and ‘no you’re not’ again. “Okay. So are you leaving or staying for now?”

“Leaving. Staying.” She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “Damn it. I don’t know!”

“If you stay you’ll need to be less…”

“Conspicuous?” Darcy shook her head. “Not my forte.”

“Stop finishing my sentences.”

“I’ll stop finishing my sentences when you stop telling me to stay away from people.”

“It’s not-“

“Save it, Jane. I’m twenty six for God’s sake! I think I can make my own decisions in this hellhole of a situation. End of discussion.”

With this, she stormed off childishly, trying to control her anger toward everyone in this goddamn realm. Jane had comforted her, and then stupidly brought up the topic of Loki. Hell, even _she_ didn’t know what they were, and Jane had caught her off guard. She calmed slightly, thinking she’d overreacted. Maybe she should’ve gone back to Jane, apologised and had a girl’s night of getting drunk and doing whatever they did here for fun.

However, she knew it was too late when her feet began climbing the staircase that led toward Loki’s room. She had walked straight past her new room that had been prepared for her beforehand, a little curious of what it was like inside. She sighed. She hated the feeling of arguing with Jane, especially over Loki, and she knew what she had to do to ease the pain in her head. Her remedy was to visit the source directly.

“Things will look suspicious if you stay in here all the time, you know.” Darcy let herself into Loki’s unlocked room, shutting the door gently behind her. He was slouched on his bed, a book in his long fingers. Looking up, he took in Darcy’s Asgardian gear, realised he was staring, and promptly returned to his book with pretend boredom.

“You’re suggesting I be more social, then? Attend meals with you?”

“Go for a walk or something. Talk to people. It wouldn’t hurt… a lot.”

Loki merely raised his eyebrows, still not looking at her. She sat beside him, and sighed.

“Fine.” She huffed and lay down on the bed, propping the cushion behind her, mirroring Loki’s position, mocking. “So then. When are we going to Jotunheim?”

“We?” Loki slammed his book shut and looked at her as if she had gone mad. “I don’t remember talking to you about this.”

Darcy shrugged. “I know you want to go. That’ll be where Forseti is.”

“How would you know that?”

“He said he had an army of Frost Giants… So…”

“No.” Loki resumed reading, hiding his surprise at how quickly Darcy had deciphered Forseti’s whereabouts. “You’re not coming.”

She plucked the book out of his hands with a short, sarcastic grin. “I thought you said you wouldn’t tell me what to do. Ooh, what’s this?”

“Just a book.” Loki snatched it back off her. “Just out of curiosity, but if you _do_ come with me, what good will you be?”

“I stabbed a guy once, remember?” Darcy argued. “Please? I won’t be entirely useless.”

Loki sighed and dropped the book on the side table, rolling over to his side, his full attention on Darcy.

“You know how many warriors went out to find Idunn? _Thirty._ You know how many came back?”

Darcy knew the gist of the answer before he continued.

“ _Six._ Six came back. Forseti killed the rest. He won’t hesitate to kill you-“

“-Again. I know. I want to come. I _will_ come. I’ll find my own way if not.”

Loki wasn’t used to losing arguments, but he sighed in resignation. “You’ll never let me leave without you, will you?”

“It’s nice to see we’re on the same page.” Darcy smiled widely.

“Try not to get yourself killed.” He said with deep exasperation.

 “I could say the same for you.” Darcy retorted. “How many times-“

Her sarcastic comeback was cut short as he pulled her close to his chest. She shuffled closer to him, her face finding the material of his shirt. He wore a light shirt under a loose green waistcoat and dark trousers, opting for comfort rather than his usual attire. She felt overdressed, and her corset dug into her uncomfortably. Loki suddenly wanted to say something to her, but it stuck in his throat, as did the compliment regarding her appearance when she walked in. He wanted to say something; a word of warning that showed he wasn’t entirely indifferent.

“How does tomorrow sound?” Was all that came out of his mouth in the end.

“Sounds like a date.” Darcy struggled to say under her breath. She gasped and went to push Loki away from her for a second. “Can you-“

Loki let go of her as if she stung him, hurt in his face as he rolled over to the other side of the bed. Darcy immediately shook her head as she stood up, realising that Loki was reading that as rejection. “No, no! This goddamn corset is digging into me and my feet kill.”

“Oh.” He got up and walked over to her, confidence back in his stride, practically purring. “I can help with that.”

He turned her around to face him as he undid the clasps on her corset, freeing the material bunched around her waist. She exhaled in relief and rested her hands on Loki’s chest, feeling it rise and fall underneath her fingers. She quickly flicked off her shoes and kicked them out of the way.

“Thank God for that. I’ll never get used to wearing this crap.”

His fingers lingered at her waist and she smiled up at him. “I’m going to bed.”

“You could always sleep here…” He looked at her with uncertainty, expecting her to run, to shout _monster_ at him. It was the product of two years of cruelty and a lifetime of dismissal and unworthiness that had shaped his now unsure mind.

“Hm.” Darcy smiled. “Sif _did_ say I had a new room prepared …”

She balanced on her tiptoes and brought Loki down to her lips, pecking him lightly, teasing.

“… But I think I feel kinda comfortable here. I’m not so… confused anymore.”

He seemed to take this as a green light, kissing her so intensely she was practically lifted off her feet. His fingers trailed down her neck, making her giggle softly. He took a hold of her hips and pressed his body to hers, making her breath hitch. She suddenly stopped kissing him and frowned, catching her breath. “Just sleeping, Loki. We’ll need the energy for Jotunheim.”

Loki nodded and pulled her closer, claiming her lips again as she threw her arms around him.

“I have nothing to sleep in.” She gasped between kisses. “I should go back to my room.” Loki pulled away from her and smiled.

He nudged the shoulder straps of her dress away and let it drop to the floor gracefully, leaving Darcy stood in her bra and knickers.

“Um.” She made an effort to cover herself with her arms, feeling exposed. But Loki quickly shrugged off his waistcoat and pulled his shirt over his head. He smiled mischievously at her before dressing her in his shirt, which brushed the tops of her thighs. She went to pull the fabric down bashfully when Loki intertwined his fingers with hers and placed them on his chest. He ran a hand through Darcy’s hair, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness she hadn’t thought he’d possess.

“Better?”

She laughed quietly, taking in Loki’s slender chest, tracing his skin with her fingers. “Better.”

Darcy slid her fingers through his again and pulled him gently toward the bed, sliding under the soft sheets and burrowing her head underneath Loki’s chin, content.

“Do you trust me?” Loki asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“I don’t know.” She said honestly, breathing in his scent. “I’m here aren’t I? Even though Jane says I should stay away from you.”

“Maybe she’s right.”

“Uh, uh.” She pulled away from him, shaking her head. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying. If you start that ‘I’m so untrustworthy, stay away from me’ shit I’m actually going to hit you.”

He smirked. “Maybe I like getting hit.”

“Ohh,” she closed her eyes and returned to her place in his arms. “I thought I had you down as a masochist. Now shush.”

He closed his eyes. He was oddly comfortable here, as he had been the moment he woke up with her in his arms before. He wondered how long it’d be before he made a mistake that would drive Darcy to leave him completely. With that in his mind, he tightened his grip on her, their legs intertwined underneath the sheets, his lips in her hair.


	15. Chapter 15

_He and Darcy stood in the vast, icy wilderness of Jotunheim, Darcy shivering and her teeth chattering uncontrollably. She looked positively haunting, her pale skin now a blue hue, contrasting with the dark hair whipping wildly around her face in the wind.  Loki looked back at her, taking off his furs and draping it around her shoulders with a soft smile. She stuttered her thanks to him, and pulled the soft material around herself._

_He didn’t notice the look of horror on her face until he noticed she’d stepped back from him._

_“Darcy?”_

_Her shaking hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide. She seemed to be speechless, until he heard her whisper._

_“You… Your skin.”_

_He looked down at himself with resignation, seeing his pale skin exchanged for his Jotunn blue. He took a step toward Darcy, who in turn took another step backwards, shaking her head. He needed to touch her, to comfort her. It would be okay, he wanted to say, this was only temporary. But the words were too late as he saw her drop to her knees._

_“No!” He skidded toward her on the ice, and pulled away the pale hands clutching at her stomach. “No, no. Darcy…” Realisation paled him as her blood seeped crimson into her clothes and through his long fingers covering her wound. She feebly coughed, her eyes losing their usual spark._

_“Darcy, come on… No… You can’t…”_

_He blinked and stared at the lifeless body in his arms with vacant shock, not quite understanding. He felt goosebumps rise on his blue skin and a sharp pain in his chest that had him blinking back tears._

_Until he looked into the eyes of Forseti. He stood proudly behind Darcy, a bloody knife in his grasp. His smile stretched wide on his face, gloating._

_Slowly, he raised the knife to his lips, and, with a satisfied smile toward Loki, his tongue flicked out and traced the blood on the cold steel._

It took every inch of Loki’s self-control not to jolt awake. He wasn’t accustomed to nightmares that didn’t involve his own physical or emotional pain. ‘It was just a dream’ he chided himself when he glanced to Darcy, fast asleep at his side, safe in his arms. He took a deep breath and took a moment to steady his emotions before glancing over to the window.

It was early, he saw, and the sun had only just risen.

He needed clarity. Clarity in the form of his mother. He was reluctant to leave Darcy, but he felt as though a meeting with his mother would clear the doubt he felt in his mind. After the nightmare, he felt as though leaving Darcy here, asleep, would put his mind at ease. It was something he would pay for later, but he decided an angry Darcy would be better than a dead one.

He watched Darcy shuffle in her sleep as he untangled himself from her limbs. She looked serene, except the furrow of her brows. She looked… troubled. He pressed his lips to her forehead gently, watching the muscles relax as the side of her lips pulled up in a small, brief smile. It was hard to tear himself away, but his gaze moved from her sleeping figure to the door. He set his shoulders, determined to walk out without a single glance backward.

He knew exactly where his mother would be.

Loki knew she would be in her spinning room, where she spent most of her time weaving threads together to create beautiful tapestries. He found her here, but instead of sitting at the wheel, she was stood on the balcony, gazing out at Asgard blankly. It took her a while to notice her son’s presence, but when she did, she did not turn and acknowledge him fully.

“Going to seek out Forseti will not appease your anger. It will not save Asgard.”

“What do you propose we do with him, then?”

“He will not go unpunished. I promise you that.” Frigga’s voice carried a weight of uncertainty as Loki looked on, sceptical.

“It seems that Odin is not the only one telling lies. Or omitting the truth, for that matter.”

“He is my grandson. He is family.” Frigga sighed. “And we protect family, do we not?”

“When he attempts to murder _innocent_ people? Or… attempts to march on Asgard, to lay waste to everything we hold dear? He will tear up everything in his path.” Loki looked at his mother, trying to keep his emotion under control as he made her see sense. “Why protect him then?”

Frigga managed a small smile as she looked upon her son. “I protected you, did I not?”

Loki looked down, unable to meet her eyes. He’d walked straight into that one. He met her eyes again. This was about Forseti’s actions, not his own.

“You did. But in the end, I paid the price for all my… atrocities. Unlike Forseti, who is walking free after threatening Darcy’s life and informally declaring war on Asgard. What is Odin doing if not rotting in his chambers, waiting for the situation to worsen? Why has he not sent a single warrior to investigate?”

Frigga began to pace, her movements calm, her dress sweeping upon the floor with a soft shuffle. She was immune to Loki’s disgust for Odin, hearing his slurs loudly and often. He knew how she felt about these open displays of contempt, but he seemed to forget how much Frigga loved her husband.

“Your father-“

“He’s not-“

“Believes many things.” Frigga gritted her teeth as her son rolled his eyes. ”And he does not believe in these threats, these… visions of grandeur that Forseti may have, of opposing Asgard and everyone he believes has slighted him in the past.”

Loki laughed softly. “It is personal, and he intends to turn everyone against me. Admit it. It would not take much persuasion. And after, he would finish off his misplaced anger by lashing out at Darcy… again.”

“It is true. Asgardians may not favour you after all that has transpired, but going after Forseti will not change anything. I see many futures, Loki. I know what happens in each. And in each, Lady Darcy is stronger than you think. You need not worry about her, Loki.”

“If you knew… why didn’t you tell me? Warn me?”

“I can’t play with the future, Loki. Did you not think I saw you disobey and wanted to intervene? Did you think I wanted to let my son, Baldr, _perish_ whilst I watched over idly? So I tried to stop it, to no avail.” Frigga’s voice carried a weight of pain. “Some things are best left to fate.”

Loki stayed silent for a moment, taking in his mother’s anguish.

 “What do you see now? What _can_ you tell me?”

At this, Frigga bowed her head, her expression troubled. “I could not tell you even if I knew.” She paused, deliberating whether she should divulge her condition. “I… I believe I am nearing my sleep. My vision has become… blurred, so to speak. The details are fuzzy. I see an outcome, and maybe a multitude of factors in play, but the pieces do not fit together coherently anymore…”

Frigga smiled sadly and walked over to her son, putting a small hand on his shoulder, softly and cautiously. “But… you don’t have to do this, Loki.”

“Is that a warning or mere advice?”

“I cannot say.”

“Then this is goodbye.”

Frigga held her son in her arms briefly before he jerked away and turned his back on her. She watched her son walk out with a fixed stare. She wondered which of her visions was to become true. She held back tears, letting them out only when she knew Loki was too far away to hear. Even then, she tried to collect herself, going to her wheel and weaving the black thread between the gold as if nothing had happened, watching the sunrise.

\---O---O---O---

When Darcy woke, she felt cold. She turned over and felt for Loki beside her, her fingers lazily draping over the soft sheets.  

She frowned, confused. The bed was cold and empty under her touch- Loki must’ve been gone a while. She rolled out of bed ungracefully and opened the curtains to the blinding sunlight outside. She shielded her eyes against the brightness and winced.

“Loki?” She called, looking around for some sign of him. Pulling on her dress, she wondered where Loki had run off to. She was really quite looking forward to seeing him in the morning with bed head hair and tired eyes. She didn’t quite get to revel in it last time, being poisoned and all. Plus she had that whole ‘indecisive-shit-is-he-a-good-guy’ problem. At the moment her mind was relatively guilt-free. In fact, she felt better rested than usual- she could get used to this.

Checking the bathroom, she expected to hear running water or movement, but instead, found it as empty as the bed had been. She changed back into her dress, muttering under her breath. Her peaceful mood turned sour easily.

“The asshole’s run off.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had bailed on her in the morning, but she felt slightly more concerned this time, and although she denied it, a little more hurt. That’s what she got for trusting the God of Mischief. She was probably right in not having sex with him last night, she thought sourly. She _was_ a little more than curious, though…

She sighed heavily, libido under control, and smoothed her hair down before contemplating the short walk of shame to her own room. Before she left, she looked over at Loki’s shirt she’d left on the bed. She bit her lip, and promptly scrunched it up and took it with her. She prayed that people wouldn’t see her, barefoot and dishevelled, walking from Loki’s room to her own, a shirt in her clenched fist. People might get the wrong idea. She tiptoed down the maze of corridors, hoping to whatever god that she remembered the way.

After the second ‘junction’ in the corridors, she considered just giving up trying to find her way. Instead, she sat down by the side of the hall and put her shoes back on. She considered throwing the shirt she’d stolen (see: borrowed) from Loki over the balcony she could see to her right out of revenge, but stopped when she realised it would probably be a nice blanket for when she’d have to camp out here later. She estimated that it would be a few days of wandering before she reached anything remotely resembling her own room, knowing the size of this place. Plus, she doubted Loki would care about one shirt.

“Hopeless…” Darcy meditated, rolling her eyes.

Brushing the thoughts of a cold, marble floor bed out of her mind, she managed to wander back to thoughts of Loki. She pondered whether she’d done the right thing, going to Loki last night. It _had_ surprised her that Loki could be the way he was with her, so… passionate and human. She was surprised at herself in a way. The way she had completely let go. And she couldn’t help notice the way he had been so protective of her when she had said she wanted to go to Jotunheim-

“-Jotunheim.” She gasped, dropping Loki’s shirt and bolting down the corridor, back in the other direction. Her smile had vanished, and she muttered curses under her breath. “That lying dick… Thinks he can trick me… Stupid… Eugh…”

She was so absorbed in her task to pummel Loki to the ground that she didn’t look up in time to notice a leather and metal clad chest collide with her face as she reached the stairway. She immediately looked up to see who she had collided with, rubbing her forehead with a groan.

“Oh, Thor. Thank god. I thought I’d be lost here forever.” She clutched at her heart dramatically before meeting the blank and oblivious eyes of Thor. Her jokes were lost on him- she gave up with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry.”

“Darcy, are you okay?” Thor steadied her by her shoulders and frowned at her. She nodded, still rubbing her head with a grimace. “Where are you going?”

“Me?” Darcy shrugged. “Uh. Nowhere. Wandering.”

“You haven’t seen my brother at all in your wanderings, have you?” Thor looked troubled.

“Uhh. No.” Darcy’s poker face really needed working on. “Why? Are you looking for him?”

Thor nodded slowly and began to walk. Darcy followed him like a lost puppy, trying to memorise each pillar and post she passed.

“You could ask Heim-dude.”

“He has no sight of him. Loki must have regained his powers. Enough to cloak himself against Heimdallr’s sight.”

“He has his powers back?”

Thor looked troubled. “He may have. The guards outside the castle reported seeing Loki boarding a longship in the early hours this morning-“

“And they just let him go?” Darcy said irritably, suppressing the long stream of curse words that threatened to come bursting out of her mouth.

Thor looked tired. “He incapacitated them temporarily and managed to sneak past them. My brother has a light foot.”

“You’re telling me…” Darcy muttered.

“You have no idea of his whereabouts, then?”

“Nope.” Darcy tried not to sound too pissed. She knew exactly where he was: Jotunheim. God knows how he got there, she thought angrily. But for some reason, her anger subsided into worry. He’d gone alone. She would’ve been little help, but a wingman always helped in a bad situation. Well, she could imagine she would be helpful in _some way_. She’d like to think she wasn’t entirely hopeless.

“I merely thought-“

“Loki doesn’t confide in me.” Darcy raised her eyebrows at Thor. _Implying something, Thor?_  

Thor pushed open his brother’s bedroom door, a quick change in his features when he realised it was unlocked.

“This is most unusual.” Thor shook his head, Darcy following sheepishly behind him.

“Maybe he went on a spur of the moment holiday. I hear, uh, Gurm...ten…heim.is pretty nice this season.” She smirked, mocking the weird-ass names the Asgardians gave to other worlds.

Thor smiled back at her. It didn’t quite qualify as a genuine one- there was too much worry in his eyes. She chided herself for her lack of serious attitude. Thor was seriously worried, and here she was, making light of the situation, like it didn’t matter.

“He won’t have gone too far.” Darcy picked at her dress, looking down. “I mean, I thought the whole world hated him, anyway.” _He wouldn’t risk that,_ she nearly finished, but stopped herself, knowing Thor would see it as a downright lie.

“We will find him. In what state I do not know. I fear he is searching for Forseti,” Thor said gravely, walking cautiously into Loki’s room. “For the moment, would you fetch Jane for me, please? It would put my mind at ease, knowing she is safe and well.”

“Yeah, of course but did you not, you know, see her two seconds ago when you rolled out of bed?”

“I have not seen her since the feast. My father has important tasks for me, battles to be planned, to be fought.” She saw the sadness in his eyes and slapped him on the arm with a fond smile.

“It’ll be okay big man. Hang in there. I’ll go find her.”

She went to walk out, realising she had no idea where she was headed. “Uh…” She looked back at Thor, who gave her a quick smile.

“Third left, down the stairs and along the corridor. You cannot miss it.”

Darcy walked out of Loki’s room for the second time that morning, this time with a heavy heart. Her irritation at Loki’s behaviour still remained, though. She navigated the maze of corridors and halls with difficulty, trying to get her bearings. She wished she had that goddamn necklace again. It would be so useful to zap to places. Her feet ached in these heels. So impractical for a place like this.

She almost screamed when a strong hand dragged her sideways into a room, the door closing with a slam behind her. She felt a small hand over her mouth as she struggled, only to stop and gaze with wide eyes at her would-be captor. She stilled instantly.

“Queen Frigga?”

“Darcy. We do not have much time.”

“For what? What’s going on-“

“Would you be willing to pursue Loki into Jotunheim?”

“How did you-“ She stopped her line of thought. ”Of course.” She muttered, rewarded by a brief flash of a smile, which was extinguished almost immediately.

 “What can I do? I can’t fight, I can’t stop Forseti. I’m a dead weight.”

Frigga managed a smile. “You’re not a dead weight, Darcy Lewis. You have ensnared my son, which is a feat in itself. I saw-“

Frigga looked as if she’d said too much.

“You saw what?” Darcy frowned. “You can’t just start that and not finish.”

The Queen took a deep breath, reluctance in her tone. “I saw that you could save him from Forseti. He has gone to battle him, and he will not win. If I send any of the other warriors, I doom him. If I do nothing, I doom him. This is the only solution, if you are willing. I do not know what you do, but I saw that you can save him.”

“…Okay. Shoot.”

Frigga exhaled in relief and handed her the transportation necklace. Darcy hooked it around her neck, the comforting, familiar weight of it resting on her chest.

“Hello baby,” she crooned at her necklace, stroking it fondly.

“There is a cavern-”

 _Of course there’d be a mysterious cavern,_ she tried not to interrupt.

“- under the waves of _Aegirhav_ , hidden. It is impervious to water, a cavern hidden underneath the Rainbow Bridge. Inside is the means to travel without use of the Bifrost. Very few people know this place exists, and to get to it is near impossible as it would require you to swim against the current-“

“Ahh, that’s where the necklace comes in, right?” Darcy couldn’t help herself.

“Yes. As long as you think of the _Jordkula_ , you should be able to access it with ease. When you return, the same must be done.”

“Okaay.” Darcy bit her lip, sounding the name of the cavern in her head. _Yord-kular? Jord-kula. Jordkula. Remember, Darce. Remember._ It was odd how the voice inside her head sounded a _lot_ like Jane’s.

“I would go, but I feel as though my sleep is imminent. It would not do for me to go in such a state.”

“What ‘sleep’?”

“When we reach a certain age, we begin to weaken. The only way to replenish our youth is to sleep for a short while, around a year or so at the most. My… visions are blurred, flawed because of this. I feel drained.”

“So like… recharging immortal batteries. Right.” She muttered to herself.

“It will be dangerous, Darcy. I do not expect you to go. There is no requirement for you to-“

“No!” Darcy made herself jump. “I want to. Honestly.”

\---O----O----O

The Queen stepped back from her with a barely hidden smile.

“You look as Lady Sif had, once, back in the days of her training.” Frigga watched Darcy as she stood hunched over, armour on her body an unfamiliar weight (though surprisingly light). The transportation necklace hung heavy around her neck. She twirled it around her fingers nervously. She couldn’t even push herself to make a joke in this situation, to make it lighter.

“What if I run into… you know, the Jotun people? Frost giants?”

Frigga sighed. “We have… troubling relations with the native Jotuns. They would not treat you kindly, but I am sure they will not go so far as to attack you unless they are part of Forseti’s army…”

She trailed off, her pale fingers knotting together in discomfort.

Darcy nodded. “I still look like a Midgardian, then?”

“Barely. You could pass as one, lost in another realm if you needed.” Frigga compromised. “Though the armour…You don’t have to do this.”

“No.” Darcy said resolutely. “I want to do something other than nearly dying and causing trouble.”

Darcy shifted uncomfortably as the Queen draped a fur coat over her shoulders. Darcy noticed the tremor in her fingers as she did the clasp at the front.

“You have a blade at your side. You are not a warrior and do not possess the training to match theirs, do not forget this. If you encounter the Frost Giants, you run. Promise me this.”

“I won’t come back unless I have Loki with me.”

Frigga closed her eyes. “Darcy. You are risking your life enough.”

Darcy laughed, despite the shake in her body betraying her nerves. “I’ll be fine. I’ll bring him back. But… What about Heim-dude? Won’t he just tell Odin I’ve gone through the Jordkula thing?”

“I have ensured he will be blind in regards to your actions. If you should encounter Forseti…”

“… I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She shrugged. “He wouldn’t be too happy to see me anyway, so I’ll stay out of his way. I’ll go in there, get Loki and bring him back.”

Frigga looked older than she’d ever done in her presence, and Darcy couldn’t help but put a comforting (albeit shaking) hand on her shoulder, comforting _her_ of all people.

“Save my son. I cannot lose him again, Darcy.”

“I’ll try my best.”

She focused hard on her destination, and screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable jolt of her body transporting.


	16. Chapter 16

When Darcy finally mustered up the courage to open her eyes she found that she was in a dim cavern, surrounded by moss covered walls that seemed to close in on her with every glance their way. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. _Move, Darcy_ , she screamed at herself, her feet cemented to the floor in fear.

She glanced to the cascade of water that ran down one side of the cavern. It was like the hidden caves in the books she’d read as a child, situated underneath a noisy waterfall. But instead of marvelling in its beauty, she looked around quickly, urgently. How the hell was she meant to get to Jotunheim from here?

“Think.”

Her feet finally found feeling and she stepped cautiously toward the middle of the cavern. In the centre there stood a platform not unlike the Bifrost’s, with a rusted sword cast into a moss-strewn rock. She carefully lifted the sword in shaking hands, her arms barely able to lift the heavy iron. It was times like these when she wished she’d checked out Heimdallr’s muscles. It must’ve taken a lot to lift that golden sword of his.

With a silent promise to herself that she’d do all the checking out there was to be done when she got back, she struck the sword back into the slot, feeling the vibrations of it underneath her fingertips. The cave around her began to move, spinning in a slow circle that had her clutching for something in support. Her grasping fingers found sharp, moss covered rock as the gravelly sound of rocks crashing together grew louder.

“Holy shit.” She whispered under her breath, before she felt the jolt of her body move through the branches of Yggdrasil to Jotunheim. Thankfully, she didn’t faint this time, taking in the colours of the journey, the stars whizzing past her. It was beautiful… until she touched down on Jotunheim.

Not that it wasn’t _beautiful_ , per se. But when the first thing her mind registered was the cold, she wasn’t exactly delighted. Asgard had this sort of temperate climate about it, not too hot or cold at once. But this place was sub-zero. She drew her furs around herself, thankful that Frigga had thought of the temperature. Darcy half wondered whether the shake of her body was related to the cold or just sheer fear.

After stepping out of the small crevice of the snow covered rocks behind her, she looked about her with a sense of desolation.

So this was where Loki was born.

To her far right, she could make out ruins, or what looked like ruins, sharp rocks jutting up in the distance. She was unlikely to get to them even if she had wanted to, as there was a deep ravine that way, separating herself from what she presumed a Jotun civilisation. Although she had set off in the beautiful midday sunshine of Asgard, Jotunheim was depressingly dark, the sky covered in grey cloud spanning as far as she could see.

It was not as welcoming as Asgard had been, that was for sure.

It was only then she heard the voices. Listening hard, she made out a cry of pain coming from behind a hill that looked as if it was made purely of ice covered granite and sharp juts of black rock.

As she scrambled up the hill, she prayed to any god listening, be it Odin or even Vishnu, she wasn’t bothered. As long as she could get out of this alive. Darcy Lewis wasn’t afraid to say she was _well_ over her head. But, much like her college finals, she pushed through, pushing down exhaustion and despair.

She reached the peak of the hill, lying on her stomach and peering down the slope of rocks to the two figures below. Usually, she’d have to squint to see the scene below her, but being Aesir came with its perks- like HD quality eyesight, something that Darcy was delighted to realise. She instantly recognised Loki- her fluttering heart froze. He had collapsed in the snow like a wounded animal, his long limbs curled up into a foetal position. She had never seen him so vulnerable, even in the cell he had once called home, curled into the corner like a pitiful animal.

But pity and worry turned to confusion as she saw Forseti clutch at his chest, circling Loki and holding in the scarlet blood that dripped and dyed the snow underneath Forseti’s feet.

She frowned to herself, half wondering if Forseti’s army was close. Darcy’s eyes scanned the wasteland and saw nothing. No army. Nada. Zilch. There was even no evil sidekick beside Forseti. _What the hell? Was this the reason the Queen thought she had a chance? Because he was alone?_ If that was the case, Darcy wondered how Loki hadn’t taken him down already.

Despite Forseti’s obvious wound, he smiled and eyed his prey.

“… and to think, I made this pyre for you, uncle.” He gestured to the neatly stacked pile of logs to the side and smiled.

Instead of continuing his animalistic circling, he stepped forward, his face almost feral with the feeling of a successful hunt. Forseti brushed the golden hair from his eyes before lifting Loki by the scruff of his neck, dragging him across the ice. She saw Forseti wince as he went to clutch at his chest, his wound bleeding heavily as he dragged Loki to the pyre. Darcy held back a whimper when she saw the scarlet trail Loki left in the snow. Loki didn’t even bother to fight back, his limbs lifeless and limp.

“…And you can use it to warm yourself. You seem cold-though abominations like you rarely feel it-”

“No!”

It wasn’t one of Darcy’s most thought-out plans, skidding down the snow covered, pebbled hill with only her armour and a small blade at her waist. As she realised this, she gulped visibly, feeling the ground slip away beneath her feet, sending her tumbling down to her knees at the bottom.

 “Shit.”

 Forseti rolled his eyes in exasperation as she got to her feet and dusted herself off.

“The Midgardian. Nice of you to join us.”

Darcy didn’t respond, her fingers busy tracing the handle of her blade around her waist. Her bright eyes flicked to Loki.

“You came through the Jordkula?!” Loki shouted at her, pain dripping from his tone. She saw him attempt to stand up and was promptly knocked down by Forseti with a swift backhand. He wiped at his mouth and looked at her, almost pleading for her to go back. Images of his dreams flashed before his eyes, and he clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with desperation.

“Go back, Darcy! This is over!”

Her mouth dropped open and she laughed hollowly. “I didn’t ask you to bail on me. We were meant to come here together!” She stumbled toward him.

“One more step…” Forseti warned.

Darcy clenched her teeth, and stepped forward.

“Or what? You’ll burn him?” She supressed the quiver in her tone, the fearful shake that overtook her limbs. This wasn’t a friendly talk in the safety of Asgard. Here she could die with a slash of Forseti’s sword. “You’d do that if I stayed where I was to begin with. Don’t think I’m stupid.”

“So you hope to take a chance? To gamble his life?”  Forseti chuckled.

“Nope.” Darcy took another step forward.

“It looks as though you are.”

Darcy stopped and rolled her eyes. “There must be something you want more than Loki dead. I can… trade… something. Anything.”

“Your world in the balance and you bargain for one man? There is nothing more that I want than my uncle dead. The reason I would burn Asgard to the ground...” He spat, his blood tinged saliva dying the snow. His lips lifted up in a gross attempt at a smile. “However… I do not need to burn Asgard. I have my kindling here at my feet, an effigy to sit atop the flames as I wreak my vengeance. I am sick of playing games.”

Whilst he spoke, Darcy slowly made her way toward Loki, and snaked an arm around his shoulders, kneeling on the ground with him. He winced as she moved him, but leant back on her with a sigh of what she thought was relief. His words were quick, watching Forseti head over to the pyre.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Forseti smiled, turning his back on them both as he faced the pile of logs on the ground.

“Why did you come here, Darcy?” Loki reached up and cupped her face, letting his fingertips trace her lips. She shivered and her fingers returned his fond touch, running slowly through his long black hair.

“Your mom sent me. Usually I’d ignore the whole prophecy thing she spouted, but she’s hella convincing.”

 “Are you alone?” He whispered.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She leant forward so that her forehead bumped gently against his and closed her eyes. “I’m gonna get you out of this somehow,” she said uncertainly, turning to watch Forseti mumble words over his pyre, his face screwed up in concentration.

“No.” Loki was adamant. “Go back to Asgard, to Midgard. Please.”

Darcy frowned. Loki never said _please._   “This is our chance, Loki. Don’t tell me you _want_ us to die?”

She fumbled for the blade at her side, but a hand covered hers. She looked down at Loki, his cool hand over hers. He shook his head. “Don’t.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell me what to do.” She leant toward him, and with a light brush of her lips against his, she pulled out of his grasp and bolted toward Forseti, her knife ready.

It was stupid, she thought, as Forseti turned to face her and rolled his eyes at her advance. He batted her away like he would a fly, and she skidded back into the snow, away from Loki. She let out a groan of pain as she sat up, her eyes wide as she took in the scene in front of her.

“I tried making this fun. A game. But now I’m bored of it all. Especially you two.” He sighed.

At this, Forseti pulled Loki up with a pained grunt so that he kneeled in the centre of the pyre. With a flash of green, Loki appeared frozen, forced into paralysis by Forseti as he began to laugh almost manically. Loki’s eyes stayed fixed on Darcy, despite the heavy bleeding from the deep cut running across his chest.

 “Loki…” Darcy met his stare and shook her head in confusion. “Are you actually kidding me? Do something!”

“He came here with plans to destroy me. It is only fair I do the same.” Forseti cut in.

“He came here to end this stupid-ass war you proposed. Where’s your army, Forseti?”

Forseti grinned and shrugged, a schoolboy caught breaking the rules. “There was no army. Just a threat. It was enough to prompt my dear uncle to visit me here. The right rumours, the right… disposable henchmen. Now, if you’d excuse us, _Midgardian._ ”

“No, Darcy, don’t-!” Loki saw Darcy shift forward when Forseti lit the pyre with a click of his fingers. The logs burnt unusually fast as Darcy raced to Loki’s paralysed body. She felt her feet slip on the ice with every stride. _Faster,_ she urged herself. _Come ON._ It was gym class all over again.

“I swear to God, Loki, if you die I’ll kill you!” She screamed at him through the fire.

It was then Loki began to scream. Horrible, gut-wrenching screams that echoed across the wasteland. Darcy raced toward the pyre, only to be knocked down by Forseti’s weight. He pinned her down and smiled maliciously from above her.

“Get… Off!” She wriggled from under his grasp, casting a desperate glance over to Loki. Why wasn’t he doing anything to save himself? He had _some_ magic, right?

She could hear the screams subsiding in strength, and with a last ditch effort, she managed to move enough to unsheathe the blade at her waist. She used his chest wound as a weak spot to wriggle free, his arm strength almost deteriorated. He relieved a tiny bit of pressure on her arms, and she acted with lightning speed.

With a roar of both anger and desperation, she gripped the handle tightly and felt it sink into Forseti’s abdomen. She pushed the blade in until it could go no further and watched the smug look of Forseti transform into one of surprise and panic. She hadn’t realised fully what she had done until she felt warm blood gush over her arms and torso.

Darcy pushed him away in revulsion, gasping for air between retches. She pulled the blade out gingerly, ready for retaliation, but Forseti lay on the ground, clutching both wounds feebly as he bled out.

“Go save the murdering bastard, whore. Though he would gladly exchange places with you in the fire, remember that.” He spat blood. Within seconds, she scrambled up wildly, heading toward the pyre. She had no retort to his words anyway, her efforts and attention all on Loki. Darcy swallowed, feeling the blazing heat of the fire as she approached it.

“Loki!”

Loki continued to scream, his paralysis still in place. The fire licked his clothes and tore apart his skin as she watched. The only things that were able to move were his eyes, darting side to side before resting on Darcy’s helpless face.  Darcy tried to break through the wall of flames, but he lay out of her reach no matter what she did. She could hear his coughing and spluttering dying out, and she tried to dive into the fire, to pull him out, but she retreated with a hiss when the fire licked her skin.

“What do I do?!” She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling as she lost sight of Loki in the billowing flames. “Loki!” She screamed one last time, before falling to her knees, her body weak and trembling.

The fire still burned on, and she could smell burning flesh and singed hair and clothes. She could do nothing but freeze, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames in front of her until she heard a yell from behind her.

“No!” Sif skidded down the hill and ran toward Forseti, who had been ready to launch herself at Darcy, knife in hand. Sif threw her blade, disarming him swiftly, as Darcy got up and launched herself at Forseti, picking up the blade he had dropped. She pushed the blonde into the snow, straddling his waist.

 “You…” Her chest heaved, her throat ruined. She looked at Forseti with wild desperation, until her madness kicked in and she sank her blade into his body over and over until he stopped his spluttering  laughter.

“You asshole! Motherfucker!” She swore as she jabbed his body repeatedly, his last breath long since exhaled. She could feel the spatter on her skin, the snow in her hair as she struggled to calm herself.

A steady hand came to rest on her wrist, and she looked up to see Sif’s grave face staring back at her. Her eyes widened. _What the hell had she just done…?_

“Darcy…” Sif’s voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.

She froze, realising her outburst and dropping her blade on the ice beside Forseti’s now mangled body. She stepped back, horrified, whilst the fire still raged on behind her, the man inside it now still and lifeless.

Fuck. On one hand, she’d murdered a guy. On the other… She’d watched a man burn to death. A man she had… loved? No, she corrected herself, she hadn’t loved him. Had she?  She’d hardly had time to decide.

“I didn’t mean to...” She muttered to herself, feeling the tears freeze on her cheeks. All of a sudden she felt so stupid. The armour, the weapon, the plan that she was going to swoop in and save everyone...? She wasn’t a warrior. Even without Forseti’s army it was stupid to think she could save him. Her knees trembled at this realisation, and she cursed Frigga for ever getting her involved in this shit. She collapsed in the snow, suddenly exhausted.

“Can you… put the fire out?” Darcy asked, unable to meet Sif’s eyes.

Sif cast her an apologetic look, and she glanced over to the roaring fire and the remains within it.

“Lady Darcy… I do not think it would help. He is gone. I was too late to save him, but thank Odin I was here to save you.”

“Why weren’t you here earlier?”

Sif was taken aback by Darcy’s tone. She always seemed fun, and full of life. Her monotone mumbles were now devoid of feeling. “I… I eavesdropped on your conversation with the Queen. I thought I could help you, somehow. Heimdallr refused me passage through the Bifrost until I insisted. I came here as quickly as I could.”

Darcy sat in the snow, head in her hands. “Decent excuse.” She got up, out of the snow, and pulled her furs around her. “I’m freezing. Can we get out of here before we have to cut open a Tauntaun to keep us alive?”

“Pardon?”

Her attempt at a smile faded. “It’s in a film… doesn’t matter. Just get us back. Please.” She sighed heavily, her sorrow quickly turning to resignation. She brushed away frozen tears on her cheeks and pulled her furs around her.

She heard Sif shout Heimdallr’s name, and before she knew it, she was engulfed in colourful light, spinning toward Asgard.

“I could not see them. Why?” A low voice declared as Darcy dropped to her knees beside Sif in the golden Bifrost. Darcy shrugged, and saw Heimdallr tilt his head in confusion. Sif muttered something to him quickly, and a look of understanding coloured his features. “Ah.”

 “And Loki?”

“He’s dead.” Darcy supplied in another monotone drawl almost immediately. Sif looked long and hard at her before pulling Darcy’s arm around her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

“Come on, Darcy.” Sif said softly, before turning and speaking to Heimdallr in hushed tones. “Send guards to Jotunheim to retrieve their bodies.”

Heimdallr nodded gravely, looking at Darcy with concern.

“He’s dead.” She muttered the phrase over and over. It made even less sense the sixteenth time. 

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

“Lady Sif.” Odin began gravely, “notify Thor. His presence is missing from this meeting and I am sure he would rather hear of his brother’s fate from family than through the rumours of serving-folk.”

Odin stared down at Darcy from his throne, seemingly bored. Despite his haughtiness, he clutched Gungnir tightly in his fingers, almost nervously. He could’ve sworn he felt a pain in his heart in the very small space Loki had somehow managed to reserve there. 

“You again.”

 The news was surprising, to say the very least. If anyone were to die in combat, Odin would have wagered on the fragile-looking girl in front of him, covered in burns and blood, eyes red and watery. But she stood proudly in front of him despite her shaking hands and broken expression, though he could not ignore how her eyes flicked almost fearfully to the small balls of fire that lit the room, or the whispering court in the balconies above her.

 Any warrior would be drinking and celebrating their victory now. But this girl was not a warrior, by any standards. He would have felt sympathy for her if not for her snarky attitude and disobeying nature.

Darcy bit her lip, remembering the last time she was here. “Listen, I’m sorry about the shit I said to you a couple of days ago. I was angry, annoyed-“

“My wife sent you on a ‘ _rescue mission.’”_  He said lifelessly, cutting her off with a wave of his arm. Darcy suppressed her impatience as the King slowly repeated the obvious. _Apology not accepted, Darcy Lewis._

“The Queen sent a newly-turned Aesir possessing little combat knowledge into another realm in order to _save_ our son.”

She stared defiantly at the King of Asgard, who finally looked down to her for an answer.

“Yeah.” She said quickly. “But-“

“Why in the nine realms would she permit you to _lead a rescue mission_? We possess warriors, _soldiers_ for those purposes. Not little girls playing dress up.”

Part of Darcy wanted to sass back, to have another discussion that ended with her swearing and being dragged out by the guards again. “Ask her that! I don’t have time to-“

“My wife is currently sleeping.”

“Then wake her up.” She glared at him. “Shake her or something. I think she’d understand.”

“She is experiencing her _sleep_. She collapsed moments before you burst into this hall.”

He was two seconds away from ordering her out of his throne room, but stopped when he realised it was exactly what she wanted. How she and his dark haired son were two and the same in matters like these. Tricky, but subtly so. He wasn’t finished with her until she had given up her little resistance against him. He _was_ the King, after all- to watch a young, fresh Aesir trample over his words would be a sign of weakness. Even after the bitter news of his son’s and grandson’s death.

“Oh. _That_ sleep. How long until she wakes up?” Darcy ran a hand through her hair anxiously. Without Frigga here to defend her, she was done for. Politeness it was, then. Or as much as she could muster.

“We do not know.”

“Helpful.” She rolled her eyes.

“Forseti has also perished...” Odin continued.

“Yeah. That’s what Sif told you. It’s the truth. Can I please _go now?_ ” She gritted her teeth. She was yo-yoing from anger to sadness in each moment, and seeing Odin interrogate her so condescendingly made her want to walk up there and hit some sense into him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. It didn’t help that the image of Jotunheim was burnt into the backs of her eyelids. She snapped them open and blinked furiously, ridding the tears that threatened to fall. She would _not_ be weak in front of Odin.

“According to the account given by Lady Sif, you murdered my grandson, Forseti Baldrson.”

Darcy’s mouth dropped open. “Your _son_ was murdered by him. He tried to kill me, like, a bazillion times. I don’t like what I did, but I did it to survive…”

She paused for a second, her eyes widening in realisation. “Wait… Are you trying to…”

“I am merely pointing out the circumstances.”

“Are you serious?” Darcy looked at him imploringly.

“It is fortunate we have Idunn’s testimony on such a matter, otherwise the court would classify your actions as murder.”

Darcy took a step backwards, her armour suddenly hotter and heavier. Was that a threat? God, how she just wanted to go to home and be reunited with her bed and TV- not sit here in front of a grim, old God trying to accuse her of murder. She sighed heavily, her body aching, her mind spent.

“Well.” She swung her arms around wildly, looking around at the congregation that had gathered in the balconies above her. “It’s been a great chat. You have… funeral arrangements to make-“

“-And you have travel arrangements to make.”

Odin finished her sentence with a grave tone, and a quiet muttering was heard from the balconies of the throne room. Her arms fell flat at her sides, her whole body deflating.

“You’re kicking me out?” She scoffed. “For what? Being treated like dirt under your roof? Poisoned by your piece of shit grandson? Having to babysit the son I’m so… apparently ‘ _smitten with’_ just so he doesn’t go psycho again?” The last part she spat bitterly, the words feeling strange on her tongue. Probably because they were lies, but they had enough substance for Darcy to watch as Odin’s eyebrows raised amusedly. “Yeah, your wife decided to give me _that job_ at my friend’s wedding of all places! You talk a lot about diplomacy, but the way you’ve treated Midgardians in the past and even now, in your own home, kinda suggests you’re looking to rule us or something. Which is exactly the shit you say you’re above and against!”

Odin looked furious at this, and Darcy took a step back with a visible gulp. _Shit. Not again._ Jane was going to murder her.

“I will _not_ be told how to rule my kingdom by a girl as young as a seedling!” He growled. “It was _not_ permitted for you to enter Jotunheim. It was suspected that Forseti had an army of Frost Giants, though Lady Sif has informed us that this was folly. Such plans had my son, Thor, banished from Asgard years previously. Be thankful I have spared you the pain of a prison cell for your interference and rudeness.”

 _Thor started a war- I did nothing!_ She wanted to scream at him, but stopped herself. Why the hell was she arguing with Odin of all people?

“Fine.” She said through gritted teeth.

“I will alert Heimdallr. You will say goodbye to your loved ones and you will leave immediately.”

“What about the funeral?”

“You will leave immediately.” He repeated himself.

“Father?” Thor’s booming voice filled the cavernous throne room, the double doors swinging open with a bang. Darcy jumped at the sudden noise, looked around and saw him marching up behind her, his scarlet cape flowing like blood behind him. She made eye contact for a second before looking down guiltily. _Why did she feel so anxious?_ His eyes widened as he took in her dishevelled state, broken armour and bruised skin. “Darcy? What in the nine realms happened? We were searching for you… Jane was worried…”

For once, she was at a loss for words.

“I…”

She didn’t want to tell Thor that his brother was dead. She didn’t want to tell him of his dad’s stupidity. She didn’t want to admit to murder, even as self-defence. Hell, she didn’t even want to tell Jane, but felt as if she’d be the only one who’d give her a hug and tell her everything would be fine in that comforting, motherly voice. So instead of replying, she took her chance and bolted, hearing the clunk of the guards armour as they raced to her.

It was cowardly, running away. But at least out here, in the cold, deserted (for now at least) hall, she had the peace to collect her thoughts and touch the pendant that hung from her neck. _To Jane Foster._

\---

 “Jane?” She stepped out from the corner slowly.

Jane wore a long silk dressing gown that pooled around her as she sat on the stone floor cross-legged. Her expression reminded her of the good old days, when Jane was immersed in her work on the Einstein-Rosen bridges, before Thor came along and complicated it all. Jane looked over what used to be an ornate metal sphere, parts broken off and laid carefully on the ground. She surveyed a smaller, golden part in her fingers before jumping at Darcy’s voice.

She turned to Darcy with exasperation, dropping the golden contraption.

“Darcy I swear, there’s a thing called knocking-“

She finally looked at Darcy fully. Properly. Jane inhaled a deep breath before running to Darcy’s side.

“What… What happened?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She took Darcy’s face in her hands and guided her to the sofa on the balcony. Darcy took off her blood-soaked gloves and felt the soft velvet under her fingers, dazed. 

“What? Is that _blood?_ Darcy-are you hurt?!”

 “You know, I really thought I hated him. Honestly.”

“What? Who? Darce?” Jane looked puzzled, watching Darcy get up and pace the room.

“He was a bastard. He _murdered_ people, and he was crazy- like, American Psycho but you couldn’t help but admire the hotness of Christian Bale, ya know? And then I started feeling bad for him and wanted to help him… It doesn’t help that someone let him loose from that goddamn prison for your wedding. And then when everything was getting weird, a _crazier_ psycho space dude came along and tried to _poison me,_ but he actually gave a shit enough to go out of his way to save me! It had me thinking- what if he has a heart? Ya know, then there was the sleeping together, and talking, and kissing, and oh God, I probably shouldn’t have even gone anywhere near the dude thinking about it now…You told me about picking up strays. Like that cute little puppy tied up outside the lab, remember?”

Darcy stripped off her armour bit by bit as she ranted, heading over to Jane’s wardrobe and borrowing a dressing gown to cover the thin clothing beneath the metal plates.

“Darcy? Is this about L-”

“And then he’s dead and I’m actually _sad._ ”

“Wait- Loki’s dead?”

Darcy stopped her rant to nod reluctantly, sitting herself beside Jane again. She was weirdly calm for someone who had just gone through the horrific experience of watching someone burn to death.  However, Jane noticed Darcy fidgeting nervously in her seat, her knotted fingers shaking.

 “What?” Jane’s mouth dropped open.

“Loki-“

“I heard what you said, Darce. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“He wasn’t immortal, you know. He was an idiot. Jerk…”

Darcy had never seen Jane look so tenderly at her, and watched as she reached out and brushed the tears from her eyes. Darcy flinched and wiped at her cheeks, choking out a chuckle. She hadn’t realised she was crying.

“Oh, Darce…”

“I have to stop crying like this. It’s embarrassing. You can say _I told you so_ if you want. You were right, I should’ve stayed out of this mess _._ ”

Jane just shook her head and opened her arms, awkwardly hugging her sideways on the sofa.

“I didn’t realise…” Jane started, before shutting her mouth as Darcy buried her neck into her shoulder and closed her eyes. She told Jane everything with her arms wrapped around her, and felt her body stiffen in shock when she mentioned Forseti’s death.

“And now I’ve been ordered out of Asgard because Odin’s being a little bitch about everything.  Again.” Her voice muffled against Jane’s clothes. Jane drew back and stared with wide eyes.

“Why?” Jane jumped to her feet. “Oh Darcy, you had another argument with Odin? I need to fix this-“

Darcy grabbed her arm and pulled her back, calmer now. “It’s cool.” She said, resignedly. “I don’t think I could have any more arguments with King Joffrey senior. Seriously, now I know how Loki felt. ‘Say goodbye to your loved ones. Leave immediately’” Darcy imitated the King’s voice with a stern expression and watched the brief smile playing on Jane’s lips.

“But Thor could change his father’s mind!” She chewed on her bottom lip, clearly doubting anything could sway the King’s decision.

“I doubt Thor would want to. He’ll be in mourning for his brother.”

“Then what about the funeral? There’s bound to be something for him.”

“Odin doesn’t want me here.” Darcy wiped at her eyes again and smiled briefly. “I need to go home. Despite how much I want to do the opposite of what Odin says, I’m going. I swear I’ve had this conversation with you, like, six times here. I’m sticking to my guns. I’m leaving this time, and I’m going back to the world of normalness. You can stay here with the crazy.”

“I’ll come with you, make sure you’re okay-“

“What? And leave here after you finally got married to Mr Tall-Blonde-and-Ripped? I’ll be fine, I swear.”

Jane seemed very interested in her fingers all of a sudden, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “And your… y’know… immortality?”

Darcy sighed. “I’ll deal with that later. Procrastination is definitely my forte.”

Jane nodded, realising it was stupid to even try to bring up the topic. “I’ll help you pack.”

“Thanks.”

“But… You’ll be okay back in New Mexico by yourself? I mean, the rent is paid by SHIELD, but they’ll-”

“I’ll be fine, _mom._ Stop worrying.”

She forced a smile as her fingers curled around the necklace at her throat absentmindedly. She tried to ignore the guards that had forced their way into Jane Foster’s room and were making their way toward her, but as soon as they grabbed her forearms, she rolled her eyes and complied, waving to Jane as she was escorted out.


	18. Chapter 18

They didn’t escort her to the Bifrost. She was led out of Jane’s room and through a number of halls, before the guards let go and positioned themselves at either side of a doorway. She looked at both of them with confusion, their faces returning blank stares. Sighing, she pushed past them and opened the door tentatively.

“This better not be some sort of…”

She stopped dead when she saw Odin, dimly lit under the candles in the small room.

“I thought you would like to say goodbye.” His voice was quiet and stern as he stepped to the side, revealing a stone slab covered with black silk. She knew what was underneath, but asked anyway.

“Is that…”

“Yes. Though I’d advise you to not uncover him. Would you like a brief minute?”

Darcy took a shuddering breath before shaking her head and taking a step back, clinging to the wall as if her life depended on it. Her eyes never left the black cloth and the contents underneath.

“No. I don’t want to. Not like this.”

“I merely thought-“

Darcy looked at him with exasperation. “You thought what? That showing me his _corpse_ would be some sort of closure?”

The King leant on Gungnir and said nothing, seemingly confused by the lack of Darcy’s gratefulness. He knew that an hour ago, she was in his Throne room, being dragged away for insolence. He understood that he was harsh, and so tried being a compassionate King. By the look on Darcy’s face, he had displayed anything but compassion.

“You have no idea do you? I know you did this with the best intentions, but I don’t…” She was struggling to find a way to say what she wanted without being disrespectful… again. Odin sighed heavily.

“You have my apologies.”

“I- what?”

“You have been through a trying time, and I understand that I was very short with you. Sometimes we forget about other’s struggles, though it was not your place to defy me, and so I acted harshly despite your horrific experience. I wish to apologise.”

Darcy looked at Odin, confused. Was she being Punk’d?

“Um. Thank you?”

“You may leave here at your own leisure. We have healers that can treat sicknesses of the mind, if you wished to stay.”

 _Sickness of the mind?_ She wasn’t sick. She didn’t need therapy. She needed a long bath and home comforts, as far as she was concerned.

“I’m fine. I want to leave now.”

Odin nodded. “As you wish. I will call upon Heimdallr-”

“Wait.” She bit her lip, looking at the corpse-shaped blanket on the slab. “Is there… no way to bring him back? You guys have magic, right? You must have _some_ way-”

“We cannot.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Odin sighed deeply, crossing the room to put a comforting hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “There are many that I would wish to resurrect, given the chance. There were enchantments, spells to reverse death, though they have been lost millennia ago, as the ones who wielded them were the most wicked of our realm. It would be unwise to follow in their footsteps.”

“I understand.”

Darcy looked once more at the slab, silently saying her goodbyes.

**\--*--**

** MIDGARD **

Jane’s lab was empty.

Like, completely empty.

Darcy’s voice echoed as she cautiously wandered through the building, shouting her ‘hello’s’ to Erik. No voice answered her, and Darcy wondered what the hell had happened. All of Jane’s scientific thingimabobs were missing, the cupboards devoid of any edible food (Darcy could’ve benefited from a fry-up of _epic_ proportions right now). And Erik wasn’t even there.

It was only when she broke into Jane’s email minutes later that she noticed the sharp, to the point message from SHIELD, dated a few days previously:

“We have recovered your research. Any equipment, as previously agreed, is currently overlooked by Stark Industries.”

So Jane must’ve dropped her research on Earth. Why this annoyed Darcy was beyond her.

Probably because she didn’t have a job anymore, and had no way to sustain her livelihood. But Erik… had he gone to work for Stark, too?

The answer was in the form of a handwritten note folded on her bed, upstairs. Darcy could’ve sworn she could see her life being flushed down the toilet, slow motion-style as she read through it. No, Erik hadn’t gone to Stark Industries, he’d gone back home, to Sweden, to continue his research alone. That was easily Erik-code for ‘don’t follow me’, and sent a wave of sadness through her.  

Yes, she had wondered how life would be now Jane was practically a Disney Princess in a huge castle, in space, but for old times’ sake (and her sanity’s sake) she had pictured everything exactly the same. Now it seemed even Erik didn’t care enough to stick around, after everything they’d gone through… But still, she was glad she could plan her return watching bad TV and not being bombarded by Erik’s questions, waiting until the rent ended, leaving her homeless and jobless.

Suddenly exhausted, she fired up her laptop and checked her emails. Time to go job-hunting.

\---*---

It was strange how much her current situation hit her when she’d returned to Puerto Antigua. She hadn’t had the time to worry about her current immortal state, and the fact she’d outlive everyone except Jane and the Asgardians when she wasn’t on Earth. So when she woke up that morning to the confides of the lab/house in New Mexico instead of an Asgardian palace, she broke down and had a good, healthy mope before returning to her good old Darcy-like self.  It only took her a couple of months, but still, she had her moments. But now her brain was on Christmas mode, and she was determined to have a good time despite her troubled mind.

She’d moved back into her old room in her parent’s house temporarily for the Christmas season, chuckling at the Bon Jovi posters still on the wall since god knows when. Her parents hated cleaning her room out, and she wasn’t likely to start anytime soon. All her belongings were right where she left them before she went to college for her last year of internship (including a mouldy cup of coffee on her desk that made her gag). Only a few of her possessions found their way to New Mexico-  Darcy travelled pretty light despite the junk she owned. 

She flicked through her old belongings quietly on the night of Christmas Eve, careful not to wake anyone in the house. She knew her brother would be up at the crack of dawn to open his presents, so any premature waking would drive her parents up the wall. Josh was only 8, still young enough to be ecstatic about Christmas, but old enough to have coherent conversations with. Not that she had many conversations with him- he always had his head stuck in a book.

She put her iPod headphones in and turned the volume to max as she reached for the junk under her bed. The boxes under there were comedy gold, containing all the angst-ridden letters and diaries she’d written as a teen, along with some amazingly hilarious photos, too. God, she’d been one melodramatic teenager.

She was on her third diary, tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks, when she saw something move out of the corner of her eye.  Her smile disappeared, and she pulled the headphones out of her ears frantically.

“Darcy.”

There was a ghost in the corner of her room sporting a husky as hell British accent and slicked back black hair. So, naturally, she screamed like a banshee and threw the diary in her hands at the silent man, watching him disappear entirely.

Seconds later, her door burst open, scaring the life out of her even more as her parents rushed in, flustered. Her dad held a baseball bat in one hand as her mom stood behind him, peering into her room.

“Darce? Darcy, are you okay?”

She managed a choked “yes” and pointed a shaking finger to her thrown diary. Her parents followed her stare and looked at each other confused. Her father lowered the baseball bat, disappointed.

“Big spider.” She tried to breathe slowly, not quite managing to slow her heart rate. “Ginormous spider.” She lied.

Her mom sighed with relief, and rolled her eyes. She looked a lot like Darcy when she did that, but the two were practically twins as much as looks were concerned. Darcy had inherited her father’s eyes, but the rest was left to her mother’s beauty and sarky attitude.

“A spider.” Her mother repeated lifelessly, sighing heavily.

“Didn’t realise you were so scared of them.” Her dad questioned, code for ‘why the hell did you have to scream so loud at 3am?’

“Y’know… Only when they take me by surprise.” She said through her teeth, staring blatantly at where Loki had just disappeared with annoyance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jim Lewis frowned as his daughter nodded frantically. “Well then. Your mom and I are going to bed. Keep the screams to a minimum unless you’re being murdered, yeah?” He chuckled to himself and followed his wife out of the door.

Leaving Darcy alone and with the slight possibility she was going insane.


	19. Chapter 19

**_A/N- In the words of Loki himself, "Ta-dah!" We're all caught up with ff.net - I'll be uploading simultaneously to ff and ao3 from now on!_ **

* * *

 

 “Loki?” She whispered after a minute, realising that the whole thing may have just been her wild imagination.

She held her breath and clasped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from shouting when he reappeared on the end of her bed, sitting there as if nothing had happened. Not just her imagination, then. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not.

But she did know she had subconsciously reached for the Taser on her bedside table, and had shot it at Loki, resulting in raised eyebrows as he pulled the electrodes from his chest.

She must’ve looked as if she was about to pass out because Loki reached out and took her hand hesitantly with a frown, watching the slow realisation dawn on her face.

“I hate ghosts.” She said, staring blankly at him, dropping her Taser.

“You electrocute ghosts?” His voice was amused, but still as velvety and eloquent as she’d remembered that she almost forgot to be pissed at him. Almost.

“You’re supposed to be dead!” She whispered furiously at him and batted away the hand covering hers. “Why are you not?!”

“It’s like you actually want me to be dead…” Loki raised his eyebrows with a smirk. Darcy looked at him sharply, wiping the smile off his face in an instant.

“Uh. Sorry? That’s what I expect when people _burn alive!_ What even…?!”

“I can explain it all, Darcy. If you would just calm d-“

“ _Calm down_?” She jumped to her feet and started pacing the small room. Damn, she wanted to scream at him, but then remembered the thin wall between her room and her parent’s. Instead, she settled for furious whispering. “I’m supposed to calm down after you- _a dead guy-_ happens to turn up in my room on Christmas Eve, months after you burnt alive in front of me? It _might_ be common in Asgard, but not here!”

Loki leant back against her wall and sighed heavily.

“I faked my death.”

Darcy stopped pacing and gestured for him to continue. “No shit…”

“I began to think about deceiving Forseti when I woke, after we talked of journeying to Jotunheim that night.” He started, unsure of how he was going to break this lightly. “It was not without planning, or premeditation. My original plan was to dispose of Forseti when he was at his weakest. Victory would likely be his most vulnerable time, so I let him think that he had eradicated me, as so to find his henchmen and, eventually, him. Though, as it turns out, in the end I only had to search for his men, as you did the rest. There were few. The ‘army’ he boasted was small and made up of thieves and disgraced warriors.”

Darcy was disappointed; Loki could see it in her expression. He leant forward again- she saw him bat his long lashes at her.

“I did not mean to deceive you.”

“Ha!” She couldn’t believe how much shit he was spewing. He was the God of Lies; of course he had meant to deceive her.

 “Yeah, you did. I’m not angry you did that, honestly.” Her tone suggested otherwise. “It was a great plan and all but y’know… when I came into the mix, you might’ve wanted to spare me the luxury of watching you barbeque yourself and facing me with a psycho God!”

“You… did well. My task was made easier, I admit.”

Darcy scoffed. That was as much an insult as a compliment, and she reached her hand out to him, sending it cracking across his face. He reeled back in surprise.

“I spent weeks flinching away from anything resembling a goddamn flame, Loki. I had nightmares of you burning, of me killing Forseti! I still do! I did anything but _well_.”

Loki’s surprise quickly turned to anger as he stood up and towered over her. She’d forgotten how tall he was stood next to her, or how his expression could turn from apologetic to furious within seconds.

“I did it for you!” He whispered furiously through his teeth, his voice straining.

She gulped visibly, seeing a glimpse of ‘New-York-Loki’ before he deflated and sat down on her bed.

Darcy shifted away from him, her mind processing the words he had just said. _He did it for me?_ Silently, she knew damn well that the first person he could’ve thought about in this situation was himself, but part of her felt uneasy, wanting to forgive him completely, to file his actions under what she wanted to call love. But he wasn’t exactly vocal about the situation- after all, what had he said to her since she’d met him? Sure, the actions said that he cared, but they were too busy fighting death or trying to cop a feel to actually have ‘the talk’.

“I am…sorry.” He apologised, looking down at his hands. Darcy was surprised to see him look so dejected. “I didn’t factor your… intrusion into the equation. Or the lasting effects.”

“Well, yeah. That intrusion was me trying to save your life, jerk. I thought you were doing the _noble_ thing- giving yourself up. Being stupid.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose, seemingly amused by her outburst, a smile playing on his lips. The jerk was actually happy she had risked her life trying to save his, and even thankful (though Darcy knew he’d never say it).

“You think me noble?”

Darcy ignored him. “Does Asgard know you’re alive?”

“No.” Loki’s answer was short.

“Must’ve been a hell of a fake death to make even Odin believe.” Darcy considered.

“I had help from my daughter, Hel.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. Of course he had a daughter. He’d been alive for a bazillion years, naturally he’d have got laid looking the way he does. She decided not to press it, and filed the ‘daughter’ questions under ‘ask-another-time’.

 “Uh. Okay. But what about Heimdude-“

“He cannot see me, for the moment. I have used my magic to conceal my whereabouts. I will go back when my mother awakens.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, she’s in that sleep thing, right?”

“Yes, I visited her before I came here. It may take her months to wake.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes.  “Listen, I’m sympathetic about everything that’s happened, but I don’t need the ghost of goddamn Christmas past here. Christmas is family time and the last thing we need is a non-dead-super-villain attending Christmas dinner.”

Loki looked hurt for a second before he covered it up with a smirk. “I hadn’t realised you hold such Christian values.”

“Ha ha.” She said sarcastically. “Christmas is usually Christmas whether or not you’re… religiously inclined. Well, in my household, anyway. Pretty sure my mom’s family used to be Jewish or something…”

He picked her iPod up from her bed and examined it carefully. “I hear religion is the reason Odin has a subtle, but deep hatred for your race. It was a transitional phase. Midgardians used to worship him, and as generations passed, individuals found other deities, other Gods. Odin and his father were, for the most part, ignored.”

“Yeah, well Odin is known to be a dick. He threw me out of Asgard.” She shrugged. “Just like I’m about to be a dick and throw you out of my house in a sec…”

Darcy’s threat fell short, as Loki gave her look that read ‘I’d like to see you try’, as he dropped her iPod on the bed.

“What am I to do, then?”

Darcy sighed heavily. “I’m not your babysitter, Loki.”

“Fine. Then should I travel to New York and continue my unfinished reign of terror?”

Darcy looked panicked for a moment, until she saw Loki smile, his eyes crinkling as he looked fondly at her. She exhaled in relief. “Not funny.”

“Am I forgiven?”

“For what? New York? Turning me Aesir? Faking your death? That ‘joke’?”

“It seems I have a lot to atone for.”

“Yup.”

“And how would I go about being redeemed?”

Darcy pinched the top of her nose and closed her eyes. She was starting to get a headache from this conversation already. When she opened her eyes, Loki was looking at her intently, mischief in his eyes and a perfect smile playing on his lips.

“Are you _flirting_ with me right now?” She laughed.

Loki trailed his fingers up her bare arm and smirked, silent.

“May I speak bluntly?”

“Go ahead. I always do.”

“I need to have you. Just once. I cannot stop this… coming back to you, thinking of you when I should be planning better things. You’ve succeeded in bringing me down to the level of sentimentality. I think if I-“

“Bang it out?” Darcy tried to stifle her giggles with her duvet cover, but Loki pulled them down with a scowl. Oh god, the ‘talk’ was here… Darcy hid her disappointment of a one-time _thing_ with humour and childishness. Did she even _want_ to go further with this man/God/whiny-pouty man-baby?

“I am being honest here, Darcy.”

“And I’m being brash, I know.” Darcy tried (and failed) to hide her surprise at being Loki’s sentimental weakness. She brushed it back with the feeling that Loki was likely to bang it out and leave forever anyway. She figured the citizens of Asgard would probably give her a reward, or erect a statue in her honour. Play it cool, Lewis.

“So you want to… you know, ‘do the do’ with me and you’ll leave me alone?”

“Is that what you desire? To be left alone?”

“I dunno.” Darcy shrugged. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Loki, of all people. “Depends how good the sex is, I suppose.” She laughed, hating the words coming out of her mouth. Her imagination ran out of control at this point, her mind picturing his long fingers trailing up the insides of her thighs, his soft lips kissing her neck, her hands balled in his black hair —Holy shit, she needed to stop this before she jumped him right then, her parents just next door. Loki’s annoyed voice woke her from her daydream.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Have you even met me, Loki?” Darcy rolled her eyes at him. “I never take anything seriously. Well, aside from death, which _apparently_ I take pretty badly.”

“You mourned me?”

Darcy pressed her lips together tightly. Shit.

“Um. Yeah. Apparently, there’s something about watching a guy burn alive in front of you that messes you up.”

Her tone was light, joking, but her body felt heavy. She knew it was an act, but her mind replayed the moment when she’d stabbed Forseti over and over in her grief, and she shuddered.

Loki looked at her tenderly before leaning over and pressing his lips to hers lightly.

“I have apologised numerous times for that.”

“I know. I’m… glad you’re alive.” She returned the kiss with a little more pressure, her arms twining around his neck, resting on his shoulders. The moment seemed too tender to be spent with Loki, she thought idly, but her mind brought back memories of him in Asgard, and how he’d touched her with such caution and tameness.

“But it’s going on Facebook that you’re all romantic and tender and shit.”

“What?” He drew away from her embrace and scowled.

“I’m kidding. Kidding.” She laughed. “Listen. Just go to Puerto Antigua-“ She saw the blank look that registered no recognition of the place. “Dude. The place you destroyed with a giant robot transformer.”

Ah. Recognition dawned in his eyes and Darcy could’ve sworn she saw guilt in his expression.

“And do what?”

“Go to Jane’s lab. 1001. Can’t miss it. Wait for me to come back. I’ll only be a couple of days.”

Loki looked saddened by this, and Darcy squinted at him, confused.

“Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me is that, despite my rationality, I expected to find you here, welcoming me with open arms. Instead you’re sending me away.”

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “You’re anything but rational, Lokes.”

“Lokes?”

“Yeah. Sounds nicer, don’t ya think?”

“No.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Darcy continued in a small whisper.

“Anyway. Are you… okay?”

“I am... adequate. I believe it should be me asking if you are okay. You look tired.”

“I am also… adequate.” She mocked his tone, smiling.

Loki reached out between them to kiss Darcy’s cheek softly. She gladly leaned in, inhaling the familiar scent of him.  She rested her head on his chest for a moment, hearing his heartbeat through the layers of metal and leather.

“I do regret that even on my best behaviour, I manage to attract some sort of trouble.”

Darcy laughed. “Trouble is an understatement.” She checked her mobile and sighed. “Look, it’s late. We’ll talk when I get back. Help yourself to the Cheerios in the cupboard if you get peckish, but the Lucky Charms are mine, kay?”

“And when you return…”

Loki had a strange look in his expression that Darcy couldn’t quite place, until she realised what he was hinting. Before she managed to reply, he vanished without a word, leaving Darcy to sink down into her pillows, trying to process everything that had just happened.

\---

“That was amazing.” Darcy leant back in her chair and belched after devouring every scrap of food on her plate, to her parent’s amazement. She got up and helped her mom with the washing up, finding a reason to leave the table. Her grandma kept leaning over the table and asking her awkward questions, like, ‘when are you getting married/having kids?’ Naturally, even entertaining that idea was not idyllic for Darcy right now, seeing as the closest thing she had to a boyfriend was a reformed super-villain God (and even that wasn’t close…)

She settled for drying the dishes beside her mom instead, who usually avoided those kinds of topics.

“You’ve been eating okay, haven’t you?” Her mom said as she placed a pan in the drying rack.

Darcy pulled a face. She’d been living off of cereals and take-out food for the past few months, and so real food had been a novelty.

“Well, you know Jane. She loves to cook.” She lied, looking down at the plate she was drying with the ultimate interest.

“Where is that Jane Foster? We wouldn’t mind meeting the scientist employing you, you know.”

Darcy shrugged. “I’m not gonna be working for her now…” She decided to tell her mom of the new development in her life, which for once, was the truth. “I’ve bagged a job with Stark. Not high up, like, sorting and filing stuff. But it makes a change. Jane got married and she’s… well, she’s thinking about other things right now.”

Her mom gave her an understanding look. “That happens, I guess.” Her face broke out in a smile. “But _Stark Industries?_ That’s amazing, Darce!”

Darcy smiled. “I know, right?”

Well, she hadn’t exactly scored the job by her hard work, though there was a lot of that happening (mostly in the past). Jane’s idea of a good send-off was a job transfer, which she’d only found out when SHIELD emailed her with a job offer citing Jane as the reason. She failed to mention _that_ in Asgard. She supposed with everything that had happened, it wasn’t exactly on the top of her list.

 She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but those SHIELD guys apparently paid her rent at the lab (another happy surprise), so she felt as though she had to give something back to the community, before she was booted out completely. She wasn’t exactly delighted to be working for an uber-secret service (which was so secret she had to lie and tell her parents she had a job at Stark Industries as per their instructions), but it kept her mind off other things.

“So when do you start?”

“Umm-“

Her reply was cut short by the doorbell. Darcy set the dry plate on the worktop, and grinned. “Probably carollers. I’ll get it.”

It definitely wasn’t carollers.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses, other than life happening and falling out of the fandom for a long, long while…If anyone is still following this, thank you so much for your patience, and your support! I'm planning a rewrite of this as well (my god, my writing needs a good edit!)
> 
> Here's a fun chapter, to balance all the doom and gloom ha!

 

 

 

Darcy tried to shut the door immediately on the guest outside, but he had managed to jam his foot behind it. She slammed the door on his foot, a furious look on her face as she looked through the crack in the door.

“I told you to go to Puerto.” She said, resigned.

“It’s Christmas.”

Loki looked like a puppy left outside in the rain, and she narrowed her eyes. Really?

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas, remember?!” She argued. Peeking through the crack in the door, she looked him up and down, taking in his attire with a horrified glare. “You can’t walk around in that!”

With raised eyebrows, his leather and metal disappeared, replaced with surprisingly stylish Midgardian clothes. He had tied his hair back in a short ponytail and wore a knitted emerald jumper and black trousers with expensive looking brogues– confusing the hell out of Darcy.

“You’re still not coming in. Go to Puerto. Wait for me there.”

Looking him up and down through the door crack, she could actually believe he was a normal person instead of a malevolent God intent on ruining her life.

And apparently that went for her parents, too.

“Darce, I have six dollars here if you’re short of cash -“ Her father pushed past her gently and opened the door fully. Darcy held her breath, praying that her dad wouldn’t recognise him from the numerous news reports and the crazy alien documentaries he loved to watch. Jim Lewis had definitely seen the news coverage on the New York fiasco, but she had no idea the extent to which he’d read up on it.

Darcy could imagine the shock on her family’s face when the cops and SHIELD turned up on her front door with an army ready to take down the ex-criminal that had decided to drop in for the Christmas celebrations. It’d ruin her job prospects, for one. It wasn’t the first time her file had included ‘questionable acquaintances’.

“And who are you?” Darcy’s father asked Loki curiously, his eyes flicking to Darcy for an answer. She let out a sigh of relief- her dad had no idea who he was, thank god.

“No one.” Darcy shouted, relief apparent in her tone.

“Her partner.”

Darcy and Loki exchanged looks at their simultaneous reply. Darcy glared furiously at Loki, whose face was painted with an uncharacteristic angelic smile. Darcy could’ve exploded right there and then, screw Christmas. Loki smirked at her before shaking hands with her dad. Darcy’s father looked confused- she could see his eyes flicking up and down Loki, trying to read him.

“Lo-Luke.” Darcy grit her teeth and introduced them. “This is my dad, Jim.”

“You never said anything about a boyfriend visiting.” Her dad frowned before shrugging it away, hardly noticing the obvious death glares Darcy was shooting Loki. “Nice to meet you. Are you staying for a drink? Dinner is over of course, but by all means, you can join us!”

Behind her dad, Darcy shook her head furiously at Loki. Infuriatingly, he nodded and smiled.

“I would love to stay. Thank you.”

So Loki could be charming when he wanted to be, Darcy discovered.

“Seriously.” She put a hand on his chest as they were about to walk into the living room, her father gone to get drinks. “You think this is funny?”

“I wasn’t about to hide away in a laboratory by myself.”

“Why… would you get lonely?” She said sarcastically.

Loki took her hand from his chest and held it in his, a sickening smile on his face as he leant over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Shall I say we’re engaged to be married? It may stop your grandparent’s hearts.”

“Don’t even think about it, Loki. I swear to God I’ll kill you if you ruin Christmas. Just-“

“Drinks?”

Her father was apparently oblivious to the argument going on in the hallway, and gestured for Loki to join the family. Darcy took a deep breath and stepped into the room, not sure if she was ready for the millions of questions heading her way.

\--

“You should have come earlier, Luke!” Her mother smiled happily at him. “You missed out on Christmas dinner.”

“He ate earlier.” Darcy said, her voice measured.

Of course he’d been a hit with the family. He was like the charming man her mother had always dreamed she’d bring home. He had introduced himself as Luke Smith, after Darcy had jabbed him in the side, and her grandma looked enthralled with the new guest. Yes, he was foreign. No, she wasn’t moving to England. Yes, he had a job (that was a tough one, but Darcy decided that ‘International Relations’ would be his area of expertise, ironically). After the rigorous ‘who are you and why are you dating my daughter?’ questionnaire, everything had settled down, and the general hubbub of drunken conversation began. They all congregated in the living room, and Darcy had opted to sit as far away from her fake boyfriend at all costs.

Darcy was kind of amazed at the ‘good guy’ routine he was putting on. Even the cat liked him. Iggy was sat on his lap on the sofa, Loki gently stroking him with one hand, a glass of eggnog in the other, his glance to Darcy screaming ‘Bond villain’.

Darcy sat down opposite him, after filling everyone’s glasses (except Josh’s, who had left his brand new tablet on the arm of the sofa to hurriedly leave the living room). He returned seconds later, looking increasingly guilty about something.

“Something wrong?”

Darcy broke her long stare at Loki to turn to her father, who was looking at her with concern.

“Me?” She blinked. “What, no.”

“You’re quiet. And your face looks… contorted.”

“Thanks dad… That’s my face. Besides, I’m fine.”

“Your boyfriend seems nice.” Darcy supressed a sigh- her father’s relationship talks were clunky at best, and she had thought he’d abandoned the idea completely.

“Yeah,” she lied, glancing over to him, “he is.”

Her father smiled. “If he hurts you…”

“I know, I know. I already tasered him once.”

“That’s my girl.” Jim Lewis chuckled and turned his attention to It’s a Wonderful Life playing on the TV. Despite the chilled Christmas feel, she still felt on edge due to the uninvited guest present.

Darcy sighed and looked at her watch. 9pm. Too early to leave?

Probably. So much for having a nice Christmas with the family and getting out of Puerto Antigua for a while. She was planning on staying overnight and driving back the next morning, but the idea of Loki staying over made her want to scream.

“Maybe we should hit the road-“

“Charades!” Josh urgently yelled loud enough to wake her granddad from his nap in the armchair.

“Really?” Darcy sighed. She hated that game. “Josh, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Josh pulled a face at her and scurried over to his mom. “Mom. Please?”

Josh managed to wrangle his parents and grandparents into the game, passing out cards. Within minutes, the whole room was roaring with laughter. Poor Grandma had to act out ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ to the entire family, leading to Josh asking curious questions. Darcy looked on- she much preferred the role of spectator. As much as she loved making a fool out of herself, it was fun to sit on the side-lines sometimes. Plus the combination of alcoholic eggnog and a roaring fire had made her so sleepy, rendering her useless in terms of conversation.

“Luke?” Josh offered a card with a certain nervousness. “It’s your turn!”

Loki looked perplexed, like it was his turn to hold someone’s new born baby. He reached out and took one. “Right.”

Darcy masked her laugh as a cough. He didn’t even know what the hell charades was.

“…Though I am unfamiliar with this game, so bear with me.” Loki continued.

Darcy’s mother practically jumped. “It’s fine! Darcy will help you. We’ll play in teams.”

“Nope. He’s on his own. Good luck, Luke.” She smiled angelically at him and received a sigh in return. She could see the cogs in his brain turning when he looked at the card in confusion. He’d have no idea what the book, movie or TV show was, but had to act it out anyway.

Loki’s eyes practically screamed help.

“Fine.” There was only so much fun she could have with him until he got annoyed with her for real- kind of similar to her feelings at the present time. But she knew she was playing happy families with him, and her family was an audience she’d rather not have to explain to.

Darcy got up (with difficulty) and scooted up next to Loki.

Star Wars. She huffed. Easy.

“Movie.” She whispered furiously to him. His look of panic slowly faded and he nodded slightly. She pushed him up to stand in front of everyone, and she could’ve sworn he looked excited?

Loki gestured the ‘film’ motion he’d seen others do and was met with roars of “Movie! Movie!”

“How many words?” She whispered. Loki nodded, unsure, and held up 2 fingers.

“Two words!”

“Just describe the words using gestures. That’s it.” Darcy whispered quickly to him.

Loki pointed upwards.

“First word… Up? Roof? Ceiling? Sky?!”

Loki shook his head furiously. He flicked his fingers out from his palms in a flashing motion and pointed upwards again.

It was Darcy’s mom’s turn to guess now.

“Stars!”

He pulled a face. Not quite.

“Star!” Darcy’s dad butted in.

Loki laughed and nodded. He’d never known a game so infuriatingly fun. He held up 2 fingers again. Second word. He began miming fighting and shooting imaginary guns. Darcy’s laughter seemed to drown out everyone else’s. Was that a camera phone?

 “Star wars!” Jim Lewis shouted enthusiastically.

“Correct.” Loki smiled and sat down, waiting for Darcy’s father to get up and take his place, whilst the two grandparents retired up to bed for the night. He sat down next to Darcy and resisted the impulse to grab that infernal contraption out of her hands. That phone was going to be his reputational downfall, he knew it. One video and he was done for. He laughed. Not that he wasn’t done for already, his reputation in tatters, his fake death ruining any return to ‘normal life’.

He relaxed, avoiding Darcy’s glance, realising that she was still angry at him. How the hell had she invoked fear and nervousness into him?

He, however, didn’t flinch when he felt a warm hand wrap around his. He looked up and saw Darcy smiling sadly at him. It was a pitying smile, a smile that said that she finally realised why he’d gate-crashed Christmas with her family. 

At that moment he wanted to walk out. He wanted to shout at her and insist he did not need her pity, her apparent ‘reading’ of him coming to the wrong conclusion entirely. But instead, he took the sympathy and the rage that came with it and squeezed her fingers lightly, returning the smile.

The moment was ruined by a flash of a camera their way.

“Mom!”

“What?” She looked offended. “You never let me have any fun. Besides, I-“

Her complaint was caught in her throat as she looked to the ceiling with a frown.

“Mom, what-“

“Darcy.” Loki shot up from the sofa and gained a tight grip on her wrist. “We need to go.”

“Let go.” Darcy said quietly through gritted teeth.

“We need to go. Now.”

Darcy couldn’t understand why Loki was being so rude all of a sudden. One minute he was fine with staying and crashing Christmas, but now he was demanding to go and making a scene? What was his problem?

As she went to rip his fingers from her wrist, she froze. That noise her mother had heard was growing louder until it was a deafening roar, even outside. Blue and red lights flashed through the gaps in the curtains. Darcy closed her eyes in exasperation and sighed heavily.

“That’s for us, isn’t it?”

“For me, actually. But yes.” Loki pulled her up.

“Darcy, what is this?-“

“-What’s going on?”

Questions were thrown at her and Loki as she tried to pull her coat on. Everyone but Josh blocked her way, and she noticed him sitting in the corner, his face guilty as sin. Suddenly everything fit. The stalling of charades when Loki wanted to leave, the guilty glances and absences from the living room.

“Josh.” Darcy faced her family. “You called them didn’t you?”

“Called who?” He managed to stutter out, but Darcy scoffed.

“You know this guy, right?” She pinched Loki’s jumper and pulled him closer. Loki, surprisingly, didn’t resist. “You recognised him as soon as he came in.”

“I didn’t-“

Darcy shook her head. “You’re too smart, kid.”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Darcy-“ Loki cut in urgently, hearing sirens wail outside.

“Mom. Dad.” She continued. “I’ve gotta go. But I’ll explain everything later. I’ll be safe, I promise. I love you.”

“But-“

Darcy felt Loki’s grip on her fingers tighten, and she cried out and screwed her eyes shut as she felt a jerking sensation. She could feel the wind in her hair for a second before everything went still. She cautiously opened her eyes, her hand still in Loki’s.

“I ruined Christmas, didn’t I?” Loki said with a sigh.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

The room was so dusty it made her cough. White sheets covered the furniture, littered around the room. The floor had a thin layer of grime, and the curtains were thick with dust.

“We’re in Asgard, aren’t we?” She could recognise the décor from a mile away. The stone walls, the intricately tiled floors, the golden candlestick holders and dusty velvet curtains were all telltale signs of Asgardian taste.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t this, like, the stupidest place to go right now? The last thing they saw of you, you were a charred body on a slab.” She recalled the incident too vividly and shook herself out of her memories.

 “No one is stupid enough to take up residence in my old room. Apparently no one is here to clean it, either.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No one knows we are here. It is safe.” He said, brushing a stray hair and tucking it behind her ear.

Darcy tried to stop the blushing. She wasn’t usually one for tender moments, but with a former supervillain, these moments were in abundance, apparently.

“You ruined Christmas. I’m tired. I want to sleep.” She slapped away his hand and turned away, beginning to pull the sheets from the furniture carefully. She was pleased to find untouched sheets and pillows in the cupboard, and brushed them off before putting them on the bed with a little more force than she realised. She did the same with the sofa cushions before she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

“You’re mad at me. It’s understandable.”

Darcy took a deep breath and dropped the sofa cushions. “I’m pissed at Josh for being so goddamn observant. But then again, if you hadn’t shown up in the first place…”

“I couldn’t keep away.”

“I should probably be mad at you, but I’m not. I think I’m… relieved.”

“That I’m not dead?”

“Why did you think I followed you to Forseti?” Darcy spun around in annoyance, unable to restrain her curiosity.

“A sense of guilt, perchance? That I did the favour of saving your life, and so you felt as though you had to save mine?”

“Is that why you stayed emotionally distant all this time? You think I don’t give a damn?” Darcy frowned, realising that he had, in fact, kept her at arm’s length since she had nearly died first time. They hadn’t talked about anything. They’d been physically close, but not so much emotionally.

“You think if we ‘bang it out’, like we said before, you’d just disappear and that’d be that? Nu-uh, I aint buying that bullshit. You would have waited for me in Puerto if you wanted that, but you ended up on my doorstep, even after I told you not to. At Christmas. And all this shit happened. You knew the risk, but you did it anyway.”

“Maybe I just like to be a pest.” He said defensively.

“I think you love me.”

Darcy knew she’d regret it the moment those words slipped out of her mouth, and the silence hung heavy between them for a moment. She couldn’t believe she had just said what she’d been holding back all this time, without even realising that she had wanted to know the answer.

Loki, to his credit, barely flinched. His stare was harsher than usual as he struggled for something to say.

“Do you?” Darcy insisted, wanting him to either deny or confirm it.

“I do.”

His voice was clear but quiet as he took her face in his hands, leading her lips to his with a hesitant pause to allow her to pull away if she wanted to. Instead, she threw her arms around him and pulled him to her, the taste of eggnog still on her lips as she tugged lightly on his bottom lip with her teeth. Her hands roamed and found their place under his jumper, whilst his seemed more intent on pulling her closer, their bodies pressed up against each other.

His fingers knotted themselves in her hair as he placed tiny kisses on her neck. “I do.” He repeated the words between each kiss, before he pulled away from her, leaning down to brush his nose against hers, their foreheads resting against each other’s.

“Do you love me?” He asked uncertainly.

Darcy wanted to make a wisecrack, or some sort of sarcastic comment, but instead found herself nodding. “Yeah.”

She’d never seen him smile so widely, or genuinely- a nice change from the sullen, moody Loki she had known. She found herself leaning into him on her tiptoes to kiss him again, this time with more ferocity. She had kissed him a dozen times before, but this was different. The urgency to their kisses was messy, their lips bashing clumsily against each other’s.

He stopped to hitch her legs around his torso and carried her to the bedroom. She silently thanked her foresight of dressing the bed, and the thought of a dusty, disgusting room ran straight out of her thoughts.

She squeaked in surprise and laughed when he threw her down on the bed and ran his fingers up the inside of her shirt, pulling it clean off.  He seemed to admire her for a second before his mouth found hers again, hungrily demanding more. She gasped when she felt him brush up against her and her hands scrambled urgently to pull his jumper off, to undo the button on his jeans.

Loki seemed to shed clothes quicker than she could, and god, was she grateful for it. She swiftly wiggled out of her jeans, helped by the man who hadn’t detached his gaze from her since they left her parent’s house. He seemed to leave no part of her body untouched, no part unexplored. She groaned softly as he made his way down her body.

“Fuck.” She covered her eyes and bit her lip, a whimper escaping her mouth. He stopped abruptly, and Darcy uncovered her face and looked down at him in panic.

“What? What’s wrong?” She asked in alarm.

“Nothing,” he rocked against her, laughing. “Snowmen…”

She realised what he was laughing about and she scowled, getting up and covering herself. “It’s Christmas, Loki. That means festive underwear. If you have a problem with it…”

“…Not at all.” His grin turns into a look of sheer panic as she pulled away from him, teasing. He tried to pull her back, to kiss her, but she pushed him away with a sly smile.

“Well it looks like you don’t want this…” She shrugged. “Not with snowmen.”

“Darcy.” He growled. “Of course-“

She leant forward and kissed him deeply. “-Convince me.”

And fuck, did he convince her.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said on FF.net.... I'm back! It's taken a while but I am somewhat finished with this, and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Also, if anyone is still reading this... wow!

“My liege.” Heimdall greeted the King at the end of the glittering bridge. He looked anything but happy as he dismounted Slepnir.

“What is it, now?” The King leant wearily on his staff. Without his Queen, he grew more and more tired with every passing day. He spent nights by her bedside, and days consulting with healers, searching for anything that would wake her from her sleep.

“I have more pressing matters that concern me. This excursion will not be in vain, I presume.”

“It is Midgard, sir. Your son has been sighted. Alive.”

Odin took a shuddering step backward. Despite the surprised intake of breath, his expression was resigned. Heimdall barely heard the frustrated mutter of “that boy” from his King. Odin held the reins on his horse, his knuckles pale white to match his face.

“I buried that boy.” He managed to compose himself. “How?”

-

Darcy woke up, her arm draped across Loki’s chest. She smiled to herself, and pulled herself closer, sighing happily.

He looked calm, content whilst sleeping. She brushed a stray hair from his face and let her hand trail down his cheek, following his sharp jawline. He was soft and warm – the opposite of what everyone thought him to be. She couldn’t help remembering the first time she saw him, locked in a cell, his face bruised and battered. He almost looked healthy as he lay next to her, his cheek bones still prominent, but the dark circles under his eyes had faded, and his pale skin glowed in the morning sun.

“It’s rude to stare.” He muttered under his breath, a smirk playing on his face. Without warning, he rolled onto his side and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her head.

“You shouldn’t make it so easy, then,” Darcy replied with a laugh. She buried herself in his warmth, and memories of last night came flooding back to her. She laughed to herself softly before realisation struck.

“What’s wrong?” Loki asked, noticing the absence of laughter on Darcy’s part.

“I don’t mean to be a huge mood killer, but… last night. That was SHIELD outside my parent’s house, right?”

“Apparently they weren’t told I had perished months earlier.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “They’ve told Thor you’re alive then? That’ll be another problem to add to the list.”

Loki drew back and kissed her forehead so tenderly it made Darcy forget her troubles for a second. “It will solve itself. The universe does that for us now and again.” He smiled, cupping her face gently.

“How can you be so… not worried?” She finished lamely.

Loki grinned. “I tend not to worry.”

“We ruined Christmas.” She countered.

“ _I_ ruined Christmas. And potentially your reputation. Your parents must think you are acquainted with dangerous men.”

“I think ‘acquainted with’ might be the biggest understatement here.”

“What do you want me to say?” Loki grinned mischievously. “That you’re fucking a dangerous man?”

Darcy couldn’t help it. She made a very un-Darcylike giggle and clamped her hand over his mouth. “If you ever meet my parents again, that will be the last thing you ever say.”

“Hmph.” He trailed his fingers up Darcy’s arm and took her hand away from his mouth, holding it firmly against his chest. “Your family seemed happy that you’d brought home a man.”

“Hardly a man. A God.” She raised her eyebrows.

“I do love it when you compliment me, but I am more of a man than a God. I am sure Thor has told you of my disgusting heritage.”

Darcy scoffed. “Disgusting heritage. Are we having that conversation now? I know what you are, and I don’t give a rat’s ass about who your parents are.”

“Parent. I only know of one. My mother, on the other hand, is a myster-“

“Show me.”  She cut him off before he could ramble. She had already heard the tale from Thor when he used to visit Jane at the lab. Hell, story time was a regular occurrence, with Thor’s tales being mostly about his dark-haired ‘adoptive’ brother.

“Hm?”

“Can you transform on command? Or like, do you need a certain environment? I can open the windows and make it colder if you want?” She got up, wrapping a throw around her. Loki reached for her hand and pulled her back to sit next to him. He sat up, his expression conflicted. He let his fingers run across Darcy’s knuckles absentmindedly, looking down at their intertwined fingers.

“You want to see me as a frost giant? A Jotunn?” Loki looked up at Darcy, surprise mixed with disgust.

“Yeah.” She shrugged and grinned. “I showed you mine.”

Loki shook his head. “Perhaps another time.”

Darcy brushed his hair back with a disappointed smile. “Okay.”

“You’re not fighting me on this?” Loki raised his eyebrows.

“You want me to?”

“Not in the verbal sense, anyway.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. Of course. She pushed him down on the bed with a laugh and climbed on top in a graceful leap. She could feel Loki’s long fingers play with the throw she had wrapped around herself, and immediately grabbed his wrists, forcing him down.

He looked amused as he mock struggled under her grasp. He smirked. “That’s more like it.”

“I knew it.” She tightened her grip on his wrists and leant down to kiss him earnestly.

It wasn’t until two days later when Loki knew the meaning of the word ‘fight’.

Darcy threw her shoe across the room, barely missing Loki’s head and crashing into the wall behind.

“No!” She shouted. “I’ve had enough of you and your messed up plans!”

It was hard to believe that two days ago, he barely strayed three metres from her, their eyes never leaving each other’s. Now, they stood on opposite sides of the room, Darcy’s face flushed from arguments and the physical exertion of throwing things at each other.

It was their first argument. Well, first of many.

And Darcy figured the one room they were sharing wasn’t helping things.

“I am not staying here forever!” She threw her other shoe, hitting him square in the chest. Darcy was annoyed to see he didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t have any other plan, _darling_.” He drew the last word out painfully, and with distain. “Will you _desist_?” He said through his teeth as a pillow flew his way.

“Fine. I’ll stop throwing things when you agree with me. _We are not hiding._ ”

“I never said ‘hiding.’” He scowled.

“Yes you did. You said, and I quote:” she did the air quote gestures with her fingers “’we’ll have each other.’ Meaning I have to spend an eternity with you, running away from everything-“

“It was meant to sound romantic.” He countered angrily. “I didn’t realise the thought of spending an eternity with me was so repugnant to you.”

Darcy took a deep, calming breath, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“You’re not repugnant. I just want to make a plan that doesn’t involve me going to live somewhere unpronounceable forever. I still wanna see my family, my friends, Jane, Thor. And that means you’ll have to admit you’re alive, because as selfish as it sounds, I want you here, with me.”

Loki went silent, the battle clearly won. Darcy would have looked triumphant if not for the panic she saw in his eyes.

“Does it… scare you… going back?”

“No.” He lied. “I just… I want to be left alone. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to leave everything behind.”

“I can’t do that like you can.” She said softly, knowing the fight was over and she could afford to show a little heart. “When your mom told me I was Aesir, the first thing I thought about was my family, and how I was going to watch them age and die, whilst I lived on. And the same thought popped into my head the moment you said you wanted to leave. I can’t do it. I can’t say goodbye to anyone.”

“It is lot easier than you may think.” He crossed the room, drawing her to him.

“What- you’re not-“ She pushed him back, her hands resting on his bare chest, as if reluctant to let him go.

Loki took a second to process what conclusion she had jumped to, and sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not saying goodbye to you.”

“I’d better hope not.” She said, raising her eyebrows. “After everything.”

“You do realise that my mother will not be able to protect me, if my father decides my deception is a prisonable offence.”

“He won’t. I’ll talk him out of it.” She seemed so certain. “You’re not the only one with a silver tongue, you know.”

“Mm. I know.” He grinned and began unbuttoning her shirt slowly, his gaze never leaving hers, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Does this mean I won?” She whispered in his ear, feeling him shiver.

“I hate admitting defeat,” he said between kisses.

Darcy was considering fistpumping the air, but realised it would probably ruin the mood.

“I shouldn’t have put my clothes on again.” Darcy groaned as she stepped out of her jeans and hoisted herself up onto the dresser, her legs around Loki’s waist.

“That’s definitely an idea.”

-

Unbeknownst to what was happening at the other side of the castle, Jane Foster made her way to the training hall, where she knew she’d find her husband. After the sighting of Loki on Midgard, Thor had shut himself in the training hall, alone, and ordered no one to disturb him. Jane, on the other hand, spent hours pulling Asgardian gadgets apart, taking notes, and putting them back together again.

And she was worried. Upon investigation, she’d discovered something else.

Whilst fiddling around with an old pager she was trying to adapt for Asgard, the thing chirped in her hand. A message. From Stark. The triumph she felt from her new invention was drowned out by sudden worry as she read the message.

The double doors took two tries to open, and she half wondered whether he had actually locked them. Despite this, she managed to stumble into the room, finding her husband battering away at a cushioned training drone, designed to match his every move. He hit it again and again, before the drone exploded and crumbled into tiny pieces, where another one took its place.

She knew his furiousness recently was a reflection of everything that was going on. Alongside the news of Loki, Thor feared he was losing his father. Jane comforted him most nights, promising that his mother would wake from her sleep, and there was nothing wrong with her sleeping for such a long time. In the back of her mind, however, she worried about Frigga. Though she’d never tell Thor this.

She watched, fascinated by his blows for a second before clearing her throat nervously. “Thor?”

The ferocity left his face as he turned to face her. A soft smile lit up his face.

“I know you need time… but I need to ask a favour. It’s Darcy.” She bit her lip in worry, hesitant to say what she was thinking. “I-I think we need to make sure she’s okay.”

“She will be faring well, Jane. You procured her the most prestigious employment Midgard has to offer-“

“-I got news from Stark. She never turned up. He’s wondering where his coffee is.”

“Ah.” Thor nodded, the pieces clicking together. “You think she’s with Loki. On Midgard.”

Jane wrapped her arms around herself. “I know she is.”

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay up! So as I said on ff.net, I've changed my name! After being BrandNewHappiness for over 8 years it was kinda hard to let go, but we all need a little change once in awhile, eh? 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is still following this, kudo-ing and leaving reviews!

 

Darcy couldn’t help but feel a little creepy stood over Jane’s sleeping figure. But it wasn’t as if she’d come here just to watch her sleep. She had tiptoed to the high tower, where she knew Jane loved to go to stare at the stars. Jane was thankfully predictable like that, Darcy thought wryly. She hardly broke her habits. Darcy used to make fun of her routine, but now it was a godsend.

Without Thor or one of her Asgardian maids following her around, Darcy thought this was the best time to get what she liked to call ‘the Loki reintegration plan’ rolling.

She wasn’t that subtle about stalking her best friend / ex-boss nowadays, and Loki probably knew Darcy was keeping tabs on her. After all, they both agreed that staying in that room would drive them crazy.

The Reintegration Plan would only work if Jane was awake, and Darcy half wondered how tired she must have been to sleep with her head resting on a cold, stone windowsill.

“Jane.” Darcy whispered. “Jane, wake up.”

“10 more minutes,” Jane grumbled. Darcy laughed softly and shook her.

“It’s me. It’s – “

“Darcy?!” Jane flailed, her hands grasping Darcy’s face in the darkness.

“Ow! C’mon. That’s my face you’re squeezing. Shh.”

“Oh my god it is you.” Jane sat up, her eyes wide as she exchanged her grasp on Darcy’s face for her hands. “You’re okay. Thank god. I thought…”

“…You thought what?”

“There was news… a sighting of…” Jane stopped quickly. If Darcy was here, she wasn’t with Loki. But if Darcy knew that Loki was still alive and wandering around Earth, she wouldn’t rest until she found him. As Jane composed herself, Darcy repressed a sigh, knowing exactly what she was hiding.

“A sighting of what? Bigfoot? Jeez, your poker face really needs work, Jane.” Darcy’s smile faded. “I know he’s alive. He turned up at my folk’s place. Loki- Not bigfoot,” she corrected herself.

Jane’s grip on Darcy’s fingers seemed to tighten despite Darcy’s apparent ease.

“So SHIELD was called-“

“-to my parent’s place. Yeah. We had Christmas dinner. And played Charades. And it’s kinda a long story but it ends with my brother calling the police. Totally normal.”

“Loki didn’t hurt-“

“-He didn’t hurt anyone, Jane. Josh just recognised him and came to the same conclusion anyone would make.”

“You look… well.”

“I am.” Darcy grinned. “Although the last time you saw me, I _was_ just recovering from stabbing a guy in the heart and seeing a dude burn alive. So…”

“Yeah. I wanted to make sure you were okay but with Thor and Asgard the way it is… I couldn’t even move from the palace. Darce…” Jane looked up at her with worry. “Why didn’t you just go work for Stark, like we’d planned? Leave all this behind? Why are you back here?”

Darcy was getting sick of people telling her to leave things behind. Instead of getting irate, she bit her tongue and perched on the windowsill beside Jane.

“I was going to. But someone convinced me otherwise.”

“Loki?”

Darcy nodded. “I did the opposite of what you told me to do.”

Jane tried to hide her smile. “It’s just… bad timing. The Kingdom is falling apart. I’ve been doing my best to keep it together, but if you’re here with Loki… you need to leave. Until the Queen wakes. I don’t think Odin has much patience left.”

“Things have really gone to shit, huh?” Darcy sighed heavily.

“It’s probably the reason you’ve managed to smuggle yourselves into Asgard, and are walking round undetected. Heimdall is busy. There’s no order.”

“Loki told me that we’ll be hidden from Heimdall, as long as we don’t do anything… stupid.”

“Like now?”

“No, like going up to him and waving in front of his face.” She rolled her eyes. “Listen, I came here to ask you… Can you and Thor guarantee any sort of fair trial… anything to get Loki back in his dad’s good books?”

Jane shook her head and laughed shortly. “I wish. Like I said, the entire place is falling apart because the voice of reason isn’t here anymore. Odin’s got the kingdom in an uproar. He’s burning bridges whilst Thor tries to rebuild them. I don’t know what’s happened. I think… I think it’s the because of Queen Frigga.”

“She hasn’t woken up, has she?”

“She’s been unresponsive since you left. The healers aren’t… optimistic.”

Darcy took Jane’s hand with a deep breath. She imagined Loki if his mother passed, and how distraught he would be. It would destroy the family. And as much as she claimed to want out of the madness of Asgard (especially the family drama), part of Darcy would be willing to do anything to save the Queen.

“And Thor?”

“I haven’t seen in him for a couple of days now. He disappears with no explanation. It’s killing me to be patient. I know he’s got the whole kingdom on his shoulders now that Odin is failing, and I’m trying to save us.” Tears welled up in Jane’s eyes. She shook her head and blinked them away, but Darcy squeezed her hand in comfort.

“You love each other, Jane.” Darcy smiled sadly. “You’ll get through this.”

“I know. I just need him to know I’m here for him. Apparently stubbornness runs in the family.”

Darcy laughed and nodded. “At least Thor hasn’t faked his death yet.”

“Yeah I can imagine he’d be in big trouble for-“

She stopped dead, both women’s eyes widening as a shriek could be heard in the distance. A woman’s bloodcurdling shriek. A familiar voice. The Queen’s.

Both women got to their feet instantly, and Darcy followed Jane out of the room, forgetting about hiding, and ran out into the night.

The Queen’s healing room was a huge, golden cavern that seemed to glow with warmth. Darcy could imagine it being quite calm in here, quite relaxing. However, it was anything but that now. The shrieking continued, and the yelling of the guards over the noise was deafening.

Jane pushed past the guards with no problem, and Darcy seemed to slip through in the confusion. She half wondered what would happen if they recognised her. Technically she hadn’t done anything _wrong,_ just murdered the King’s grandson (in self-defence, of course) and watched the King’s son burn. So nothing, really.

 The guards stood in a huddle by the doorway in an instant, and a crowd of guards and healers seemed to gather around a figure by Frigga’s bedside. Darcy stood a couple of steps back in shock, whilst Jane rushed to the bedside of the Queen.

Darcy’s eyes widened at the sight before her. The Queen was laid on her side, animated and alive, but her shrieking cries echoed painfully around the room. No wonder they could hear it in Jane’s room.

She had hold of something to the right of her bedside, but Darcy couldn’t see who lay in a crumpled heap beside the bed. She knew something was terribly wrong despite the Queen’s awakening. Jane had rushed to her aid, and the Queen moved so Jane could hold her, rubbing her back in a comforting motion. The Queen still had a grasp on the figure’s arm.

The Queen’s cries still continued, and Jane barked orders at one of the guards.

“Someone fetch Thor!”

Darcy saw a break in the guards and peered through to look at the body on the floor.

“No.” She gasped. As soon as she registered who the body belonged to, the whole scene went in slow motion, her heart beating in her ears, her breath short and shallow.

It was the King.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N - Thank you so much guys! It really means a lot that you guys are still reading this (and bookmarking, reviewing, kudo-ing)! I love you all!! :) x**

**Fun fact. There may only be one chapter left after this one... the end is nigh! (as you eagle-eyed people may see.. it now says 24/25... woo!)**

* * *

 

The King was dead.

The news spread around the nation with an impressive rapidness. It was a hero's story that was being told; a story of how a god sacrificed his life to save his wife from an eternal sleep. The best healers could not spare him from this fate.

Frigga was inconsolable, understandably.

Even Loki, who had shown up amid surprised gasps from bystanders, was numb. He embraced his mother heartily, kissing her cheek and wiping away her tears whilst Thor wept over his father's lifeless body. Loki was ashamedly glad, but only of the relief of his mother's recovery. Surprisingly, he had expressed some grief over Odin's passing, but it did not match Thor's, who was struggling to keep his composure.

Darcy stood with Jane, linking her arm around hers in a comforting notion.

Jane whispers under her breath, fear in her tone. "What now?"

* * *

Odin's funeral was held the day after, leaving no time for most to process their grief. It was a solemn affair. The entire Kingdom watched in sorrow from the Bridge as the fire was lit and Odin's body disappeared into shimmering mist in the distance. It was a beautiful night, and he seemed to drift up to the glittering stars above, not a cloud in sight.

Darcy was trying her hardest not to cry. She was wedged between Jane, whose tears flowed prettily down her petite face, and Sif, whose jaw was clenched as to let no tears flow. Darcy doubted her face looked so composed. Looking over at Frigga, it was hard not to cry, though.

Frigga was dressed in a golden gown, her shoulders back and chin up in what could only be described as an attempt to convey strength, resilience. But her eyes were brimming with tears, and her hands were grasping the sides of her gown desperately. The sad smile on her face was faltering every now and then, her bottom lip trembling. She suddenly caught the eye of Darcy and nodded.

Loki stood by his mother's side, Thor next to him. He had not spoken a word to Loki since his return. He had barely seen him, other than to cast a tired glance his way. Darcy was expecting an explosion between them, as the pent up rage on Thor's part was bound to be released at some point. Frigga would have been proud of her ability to see into the future- Darcy wished she'd made a bet on it.

They filed into the hall for the feast and supposed merriment that accompanied the King's passing, a celebration of his life. She took a seat at an empty bench near where Thor and Jane were stood, grabbing a glass of wine.

All Darcy could remember of the King was arguing with him constantly and him locking up Loki time and time again. Despite this, she realised he was trying to make things right afterwards. The stunt in the chamber with Loki's body had shown he wasn't entirely compassionless. Although whether he thought that was compassion, or torture, she'd never know.

Frigga had disappeared into the corridors with a few guards, and everyone saw fit to give her space as she wept. Darcy noticed that Loki went to follow her, but stopped in his tracks, his head down in deep thought. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to say to her. He doubted the guards would let him go alone, either. His sudden return from the dead had left many scratching their heads in confusion. Some would have been glad if he had stayed 'dead'.

Darcy saw Loki cautiously approach the table, deciding not to follow his mother. She met his eyes with a soft smile which he did not manage to return. Instead, he was focused on his brother, who was surrounded by mourners sharing their grief.

"Brother." Loki greeted Thor with a solemn tone, his hands clasped behind his back. "I know this is not the most opportune time. I clearly have some explaining to do and-"

Thor, thunder in his eyes, stood up immediately and marched over to him. With no warning, he drew his fist, sending Loki flying across the room. He collapsed in a heap by the stone wall, too surprised to get to his feet.

The entire room fell silent.

"You trickster!" He yelled as Jane and Darcy ran toward them both with surprise. "You had me believe you were dead. Give me one reason I shouldn't have you exiled for your treachery. Or killed."

Loki swallowed as the bystanders of their tryst watched on with shock. He knew Thor meant none of this- his loss had driven him to say words he did not mean. Even so, he sounded more like their father than ever, his harsh words cutting right through him.

Darcy ran over to Loki, offering a hand to help him up from the floor. He ignored her, his shock turning to cool indifference. "You don't mean that."

"You could have helped! You could have saved our father from his sacrifice, his… poisoned mind!"

"You know he didn't listen to anyone but mother. Or you." Loki ignored Darcy's outstretched hand, gracefully getting to his feet and dusting himself off. He stalked up to Thor, furious, parting the crowds. "You know he would have locked me up the moment I step foot on Asgardian soil! And you dare act like this!"

"So what? You would've waited until he perished, just to pardon yourself? Or maybe it's the opportune moment to seize the throne, isn't it?!"

Loki took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. Darcy could see that he was very close to doing something he'd regret. Again.

"It was my fault he came back here." Darcy said quietly. "I said I didn't want to hide. I said we could get a fair trial, a hearing. A way to clear up the mess we made when we left."

Loki was still staring at his brother with disbelief. Darcy's words were noted, but not acknowledged. "You think I would do such a thing?"

"It would not be surprising given your past behaviour."

"Father did not imprison you when you attempted to murder the King of Jotunheim for petty revenge. He practically sent you off on a holiday to Midgard, where you found your bride, and regained your… worthiness!"

"Who gave the Frost Giants passage to Asgard in the first place?! You forced my hand!"

" _Guys_." Darcy shouted, aware that Odin's funeral guests were looking on. Talk about airing dirty laundry in public. Darcy cringed. "Can we not?"

"I never forced you to do anything. Your choices were your own!" Loki shouted, both of them ignoring Darcy's comments.

"And your choices led you to decimate Midgard!"

"My choices?" Loki scoffed. "You mean the choice I made when I threw myself from the Bifrost, expecting obliteration, but instead woke to the chains of my captors?"

"Stories, Loki. Stories to cover your lies and false intentions!" Thor stepped forward and grabbed Loki's collar, pulling him up on his tiptoes. In his other hand, he held Mjolnir high, ready to strike his brother. Loki sneered at him, his chest heaving with anger.

"You know damn well my intentions were to die when I threw myself from the bridge." Loki's voice lowered to an angry whisper. Darcy looked at Loki's pained expression and put a hand on Thor's shoulder, her mind processing what just transpired. "You know why."

Thor lowered the hammer slowly and loosened his grip on Loki's collar. Loki stepped back and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I am sorry for your loss, brother."

Thor dropped Mjolnir with a metallic 'thunk' and embraced Loki. Both looked extremely uncomfortable, but returned the hug with a confused enthusiasm.

"He was your father, too." He held his dark haired brother at arm's length, picked up Mjolnir and walked away.

It was times like these that overshadowed other, more insignificant problems, she noticed as Thor took a seat at the table opposite Jane. They exchanged a look of incredulity as the crowd took their seats, resuming their merriment.

Loki approached the table, a broken expression on his face as he reached out to Darcy. He slid his fingers between hers as he took a seat on the bench next to her. She returned the pressure and sighed heavily. She couldn't find anything to say, and frankly, was scared of breaking the silence that had now befallen the group. Around them, the citizens of Asgard were drinking and chatting as if nothing had just happened.

Darcy half wondered how many dramatic arguments the family had had in front of their citizens for it to be the norm.

No one even dared to glance at each other. Thor, Jane, Darcy and Loki were joined by Sif and the Warriors in a short while, and Darcy noticed the redness of their eyes, the sorrowful looks they cast in Thor's direction. They had missed the argument, but noticed the lack of tension in the air between the two brothers.

"The throne is empty. Asgard will go to ruin if we don't act now. All our father's work would be for nothing." Thor said in a low voice, glancing in Loki's direction. "I am glad you are alive, brother, though it pains me to think that our father passed thinking you had perished."

Loki's grasp on Darcy's hand under the table became tighter. "I do not regret my decision. It was only my wish to ensure further pain did not come to the ones I love."

 _The ones I love._  Darcy did a double take, her face feeling very hot. She reached for her wine, taking a gulp. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Fandral mouth this phrase to Sif, who shrugged incredulously. Even Thor looked slightly confused.

"I assume the danger has passed in regards to our nephew?" Thor asked, his voice quiet and slow. Darcy knew damn well he was trying to hint something else, but he kept his suspicions at bay.

"It has."

"Good."

Silence fell again, until Jane cleared her throat quietly.

"And what will happen next?"

"Thor will be crowned and Asgard will continue. Business as usual, as the Midgardians would say." Loki answered, his tone indifferent.

"You don't sound unhappy about that." Thor raised his eyebrows.

"I no longer desire a crown, brother."

"Another trick?"

Loki shook his head and scoffed. His glance flickers to Darcy beside him, then down to their intertwined hands. "No. I have everything I need."

 

* * *

**A/N - Fun fact #2 - Just a quick note that Thor being a dick about this is entirely because I wrote parts of this literally years ago. What's here is a careful edit of everything that's been dumped in a word doc for future me to sort out (thanks to past me(!)). I still love Thor!!! Not Odin though, you know what you did... ;)**

**Any weird changes in tense is because my other fic is in bloody present tense and I'm writing them simultaneously... accidents happen!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is here! Thank you to everyone who's followed this through thick and thin, honestly, you guys are heroes!!

** 2 years later **

“What do you mean, you _quit?”_ Darcy tried keeping up with Loki’s steps as he stalked away from the council room. It was good to see he hadn’t lost his flair for the dramatic throughout the years.

“That oaf wanted to amend the truce with Svaltalfheim!” Loki shook his head and turned to her with an incredulous look. “Even after Khaveun broke our truce last year! Not to mention the illegal importation of _slaves_ he’s been dabbling in _._ He’ll continue to act as he always does and my oaf brother will shake his hand gladly? He clearly thinks that _trust_ is the key to ruling?!”

“That _oaf_ is the King, Lokes.” She replied, brushing the strands of hair from his angry face. “Chill out.”

“I don’t know why he bothered asking me for my counsel over these years if he just _ignores_ me.”

“He doesn’t ignore you!” Darcy rolled her eyes at his frustration. “The fact that your mom agreed with you is enough, right? And that other dude, the one with the beard.”

“There’s not been a single utter of _war_ in the last two years because I-“

“-I think it was a group effort-“

“-made the decisions!” He finished, throwing up his arms.

“Dude, what did we say about how Thor rules?” Darcy spoke as if to a toddler, her fingers still brushing through his hair. “We…”

“…Don’t _have_ to agree with the King, but we should take his word as final.” Loki said tiredly. The amount of times Darcy had said this leads to an automatic response. She had him well trained.

“Besides. Thor’s going to a peace-keeping meeting in Vanaheim tomorrow as an anniversary treat. Jane will be happy.” Darcy said sarcastically, walking toward him until he’s backed up to the wall, a mischievous smirk on her face.  “With no Thor or Jane…”

“You’re thinking we repeat our rendezvous in the throne room?” He said with a smirk, his arms around her waist. His fury about Svartalheim’s truce had disappeared entirely.

Darcy laughed against him. “Not the worst idea.”

She stood on her tiptoes, pulling him down to her with a grateful hum until they were nose to nose. “I was thinking we should expand our ventures.”

“Hm. I like that idea. Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

Darcy kissed him, feeling the taste of him on her lips as she was pulled toward him. His hands went to the folds of her dress, pulling them up until she batted him away with a smile. “Not here.” He sighed- where was her sense of adventure? She laughed at his expression and kissed him again, threading her fingers through his hair.

She soon realised she was pushed up against him in a shadowy corner of the castle, her dress strap hanging off her shoulders, but when Loki moaned against her lips, she lost all semblance of self-control or shame.

The evidence came in the form of Jane’s awkward cough behind them.

“Um, Darce. Loki” She cleared her throat again, watching in awkwardness as Darcy disengaged herself from Loki. It didn’t help that Loki, unaware of their disturbance, pulled Darcy back to his lips until Darcy pushed away from him with a forceful shove. Loki looked hurt at Darcy’s sudden rejection until he saw Jane. Then he just looked plain inconvenienced, not a single shred of embarrassment on his face. Darcy’s face, however, had turned bright red.

“Jane’s here. Behave.” Darcy said through gritted teeth, trying to hide a smile as she jumped away from Loki. “You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

Jane ran a hand through her perfectly styled hair. “No, thank god. I don’t think I want to know either.”

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. Jane would be disinfecting half the castle soon if she knew. “What’s up?” She attempted to lean on a pillar to the side of her, but missed and stumbled. Loki’s arm immediately went out to steady her. Smooth, Darcy, she told herself, pulling her dress straps back up on her shoulders.

“Loki’s presence has been requested in Vanaheim.”

Darcy looked to Loki. “You haven’t done anything to piss anyone off in Vanaheim, have you?”

“We’ll probably find out.” He shrugged, looking back to Jane. “Most of my enemies are on Midgard. They haven’t yet banned me from Vanaheim, though.”

“You’re banned from Midgard?” Darcy squinted at Loki suspiciously, who had been watching the two quietly, trying to erase the lipstick stain from around his mouth without drawing too much attention.

“I believe my ban is a lifetime one.” He shrugged. “Although whose lifetime I am unsure of.”

“You never said it was a lifetime one!” Darcy turned on her heel and scowled. “You said we would go visit my parents this year!”

“I don’t remember saying that.” Loki put on his best innocent face as he lied.

“You said it’d be great meeting them without SHIELD showing up or Josh reporting you to the authorities? Remember?”

Jane put her hand up to cut in, but Loki cut her off with a sigh.

“I said that it _would be nice_ , not that it would happen.”

“So you don’t want to meet my parents? After all the shit I’ve gone through with your family- including _attempted murder_ thanks to your nephew-“

“-I don’t think they’ll be too happy to hear you’re bringing the most wanted individual on your planet home, hm?”

“We’ve talked about this, though. My parents loved you-“

“Until they found out who I was-“

“Please stop fighting.” Jane sounded tired. Darcy turned to her in confusion.

“This isn’t fighting.” She laughed and wound her fingers through Loki’s. She smirked at Jane’s confusion.

“Talking to you guys recently is a struggle, you know?”

“Sorry.” Darcy grinned.

“So… back to what we were saying earlier… are you able to come, Loki?”

“I feel like I’m not invited.” Darcy scowled.

“That’s because…” Jane sighs. “It’s by royal invite only. You have to stay here, otherwise the peace treaty might go… sour.”

“Why? What have I done?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “It’s just the way it is. Technically you’re not part of the royals.”

“Well, fuck them.” Darcy crossed her arms. “Looks like I’m staying.”

“I’m serious, Darcy, this isn’t like crashing another SHIELD meeting-“

Darcy threw her hands up. “I get ya, Jane. I can handle a couple of days on my own.”

Loki looked at her as if for permission, and Darcy shrugged. Sure, it would’ve have been nice to have a getaway with him that didn’t involve being arrested by SHIELD or murdered by someone, but Darcy realised that she had plenty of time for playing around.

She pushed Loki forward slightly, toward Jane, squeezing his hand as she let go.

“Send me a postcard.”

 

-x-

She was thoroughly pissed off. They’d been gone for a _month_ (not the ‘couple of days’ they’d promised) with only a quick and vague message to say that negotiations were taking longer than usual.

However, Darcy was pleasantly surprised when Loki turned up in her bedroom one night, an apologetic look on his face.

She threw off the covers and launched herself at him, burying her face in his thick winter jacket.

“Where’ve you been?!”

“Negotiating in Vanaheim. I daresay they turned sour without your presence, dear.” He stroked her hair affectionately, and Darcy closed her eyes.

“Thought that might be the case.” She said, wrapping her arms around him even tighter. “Who have you pissed off this time?”

“Only the entire royal family.” She felt him shrug against her and she pulled away from him.

“How?”

“They wanted me to marry their daughter.” He laughed. “I rejected their _most gracious offer_.”

“Was she hot?”

“That’s an unfair question.” Loki skirted the question uncomfortably. “The Vanir are known for their beauty.”

“So she _was_ hot.”

“You’re jealous.”

“A little.” She rested her hands on his chest. “But as far as they’re concerned, you’re an eligible bachelor. A very good looking bachelor, may I add.”

“Maybe I should settle down.” He offered, looking down at her. “That would perhaps stop people offering me their daughters.”

“I didn’t think you were the settling down type.” Darcy was sure they’d never had this talk – the closest they’d come to it was moving in together. Even then, they only shared a room at the palace, so it wasn’t exactly _moving_.

He shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“So you’re gonna marry this Vanir woman, then?” Darcy tried to swallow her pride.

Even after two years of dating (for lack of a better word) he’d never shown signs that he wanted to settle down into anything more serious than they had now. Darcy didn’t exactly take this as disinterest, but she knew she was in need of some serious validation when she was dating a God. He’d told her he loved her, but there were times when he seemed so closed off even she was unsure about his intentions.

“After all we’ve been through, and you expect me to marry some stuffy, uptight Vanir royal?” He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Darcy you fool. I’m asking you to settle _with_ me.”

“As in…” She bit her lip.

“Marry me.” He said it so nonchalantly she did a double-take.

“Wait. You’re being serious?”

“Deadly.” He said, his face showing no signs of joking. “So…”

“Yes.” Darcy stood on her tiptoes and pulled him in for a desperate kiss. She felt him smile against her lips, and broke away, grinning. “Of course.”

“I love you.” His voice was practically a growl, his faces inches from hers.

“Love you, too.” She smiled.

Her eyes never left his as she looked at him expectantly.

His lips were inches from hers at this point, and her fingers traced his sharp cheekbones, up to his hairline and down his neck.

“It won’t be a quiet life.” He said, shrugging off his winter furs. His hands found the small of her back, pulling her flush to him.

“You don’t think I know that?” She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she remembered the past few years he had been in her life. Jail cell visits, weddings, poisonings, the fake-deaths and the real ones. It seemed like decades had passed. And she kept forgetting that thanks to the man in front of her, she had many, many more to live. As Aesir. As one of them.

He seemed to be thinking exactly what she was, a fond look on his face as he remembered how they’d met.

She sighed, and leant forward to clear the space between them, pressing her lips to his. She twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. He kissed her back, a little more urgent than before, months of longing in his mind.

He let out a small sound against her lips when they parted, only to hungrily pull each other back in, this time with an urgency they both seemed consumed with. Darcy wound her fingers tighter in his black hair, making Loki look unusually dishevelled and unkempt. He returned the favour, his mouth working eagerly at hers with the same enthusiasm, the feel of his hands exploring the curves under her nightgown. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, and back again, biting softly on her full lips.

He lets her guide her to the edge of the bed, where she pushes him down gently, taking off his boots and unclasping his armour as she climbed on top of him.

“I think the worst has passed,” he said as he looked up at her, his hands on her hips where she ground against him.

“You mean you won’t have to fake your death again?” She said, her hands pushing away his armour, her fingers dragging along his bare chest.

“I can’t promise that.” He grinned, pulling her silk Asgardian nightgown over her head and switching places with her.

She looks up at him from the bed with exasperation. “You mean I won’t get poisoned again?”

“I’ll protect you. I swear.” He says, shrugging off his leather until he lay on top of her, fully unclothed.

His lips meet hers as if sealing the promise he’d made, and her back arches to meet him.  She chuckled as he worked his way down her body, finally smirking when he reached the heat between her legs.

As he pushed his tongue inside her, teasing, she cried out. Darcy’s breath hitched as she rubbed up against him, rocking her hips against him in a barely restrained frenzy.

After all this time, his mouth between her legs doesn’t fail to elicit a moan from her. She could barely last minutes under his ministrations. Her hands grasped his hair, pulling him away from her with a barely coherent plea.

“Please.”

“Please, what?” He laughed.

“You fucking know what.” She muttered, pulling him closer to her and to her lips, his laughter muffled against her mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” he said as he sinks into her, her response lost in a wanton groan. She gasped when wetness and hardness collided, and Loki thrust into her with a cathartic groan.

Her fingers clawed at his back, drawing him closer to her as he thrust into her, his pace quickening. His breath was short and shallow, pushing her into the mattress, the grip on her hips almost painful.

Darcy’s hips arched up to accommodate him, her hands finding any purchase she could. Loki felt her need in her passionate moans, and pushed into her harder, and faster, his hands leaving marks on her skin. “Loki,” she moaned in desperation as she felt her orgasm rising within her, scrambling for purchase on his smooth skin, but finding his tangled hair instead and pulling.

She could tell he was close when his lips found her neck, his breath against her skin. Her back arched, her name on his lips.

“Darcy.” He gasped, his muscles suddenly tense in her grip. His expression changed as his body grew slack. He rolled to her side, immediately drawing her into his embrace with a sigh.

 “You don’t get this in Vanaheim, huh?” She chuckled breathlessly against his chest.

-x-

Hours later, he pulled away from her enough to gaze at her sleeping face, brushing her hair behind her ear.

He took in the memory of those warm blue eyes that always seemed open with honesty, the chocolate brown curls that hung around her face. And lastly, the full pink lips he had claimed just hours previously.

He gazed at her with the tenderness she had always been treated with. The tenderness she’d always taken for granted, never seeing the monster he thought himself to be.

He’d been confused before, holding the sleeping woman in his arms what felt like a lifetime ago, but now he was sure that this was her place. He felt a wall of emotion rise within him, and he found himself pulling Darcy’s sleeping form closer to him, as if to assure him that she was still there.

“Thank you.” He murmured into her hair, a soft whisper that didn’t stir her peaceful sleep.

-x-

Darcy awoke, her body twisted in the sheets.

There was a harsh light shining through the open curtains, and she screwed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar ache she’d been missing for the last month.

She sighed happily, turning in the bed to face Loki bedside her.

However, unfortunately, her fingers brushed his empty pillow and made contact with something sharp.

“Ow.” Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, bleeding finger in her mouth, as she looked down at the object stuck into his pillow.

She sighed. An ornate gold dagger encrusted with small, red gems was lodged firmly into the middle of the pillow, feathers spewing out. A note was tied onto the hilt with ribbon. And a name was written in looping handwriting.

She groaned as she read it, knowing _exactly_ what the dagger meant.

_Loki Odinson._

“Seriously. Not again.” She muttered to herself as she wrapped her nightgown around herself. “Loki…!” She yelled through to the bathroom, where she could now hear him pottering around.

He stood in the doorway, completely naked bar the towel around his neck, a confused look on his face.

“Who’ve you pissed off?” She gestured to the dagger beside her.

“Could be a number of people.” He rolled his eyes, shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom, not a concerned look in sight.

It was at that moment, she knew a life with him was never going to be dull.

 

 

 

 

_Aaand that’s all folks! It only took me a 4 years to finally finish this (!) so thank you for everyone who’s returned, and all that have read and commented!_

_This fic was me testing out the Tasertricks waters back in Sept 2013 on ff.net and you guys have been awesome and kept me writing since then, so thank you so much! Words can’t describe how thankful I am! :)_

_xxx_

_Fun fact if you wanna know – whilst writing, I found my draft doc, which outlined a complete story of 11 chapters. I’ve clearly fucked up somewhere, because I’ve diverted from that plan at chapter 6… and from there, apparently I have had no idea what happens next, working up to chapter 25?! There’s also a 22 page doc with all sorts of different (fully written) chapters that I don’t recall writing at all…So here’s to aimless and clueless writing, eh?!_


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